The Boy's Keeper
by cristaadams
Summary: Julie ran away from home and is starting over in the UK, where she's chosen to settle in a small town. She starts looking for a job, only to end up becoming a nanny to a boy doll. Will she run away, too? Or would she be willing to stay in a home she's never had before? (Story takes place after Greta leaves one year later. SPOILERS IF YOU DIDN'T WATCH IT YET!)
1. Chapter 1

I run quickly into the café, trying to avoid the drizzling rain. London could still be beautiful even when it's raining. I wish I ran away here when I had an earlier chance. I smile at the thought that I'm finally away from my dysfunctional step-father and step-sisters. This is my new life. And I know that I'm gonna love it here. Although, I do need to find a job to survive.

It's only been a month and I already feel like home. Yes, the motel kinda feels like home. At least it's something I would've imagined a comfy home would be? A nice bed, not a mattress on a single bed frame; clean, white sheets that smell sweet; a nice warm temperature. I'd do anything just to keep this kind of atmosphere—and that is to find a proper paying job.

It's a good thing I've finally ended my junior year in college, saved up enough to buy a plane ticket and to feed myself for two months. Looking for a job won't be that difficult, would it?

* * *

It's been a whole day, and I haven't found anything. It's either they weren't hiring, or they obviously didn't like me. I am so close to giving up.

I clamber out of the cab and take my phone out of my pocket. I glance at my phone and see that I just received a message from my step-sister. The message is full of fake apologies and fake 'I miss you's. I can't help but roll my eyes at the thought. Before I glance down and start typing a message, I eye an ad posted on the glass window of the motel.

It says that they're looking for a nanny.

I think I just hit the jackpot.

I quickly come back inside and ask the lady at the front, "Is that ad still available?"

The woman with ginger hair glances at the ad and chuckles, "Oh, dear, my apologies. That ad's been posted there for over a year now." She stops, "I'm sure the Heelshire family's found one already."

A year. Well, damn. They must have. "Oh, that's a shame." I mumble,

She squints, "Looking for a job?"

I nod and chuckle, "Actually, yes. Badly needed one."

"I see," she starts, "Did you try downtown already?"

I appreciate her concern and kindness, but I really wouldn't be applying to be a nanny to a creepy looking old house if I got rejected multiple times, looking for a job downtown.

"It's been a long day," I pause and shrug, "But I guess I could still try visiting the place."

"Oh," she clears her throat, "are you sure about that?"

"Why?" I pause, why is she acting weird? She's been giving me dirty looks when I mentioned the ad. It's as if she doesn't want me to even be talking about it.

She shrugs, "Some believe that the place is haunted."

"Do you?" I wait for her,

"People came by when the news arose…but nobody really believed it, well, because they never really saw anything. Some kids said they saw apparitions, but you know children."

Of course. These are tall tales.

"Well," she starts again, "I apologize, but I do have some more clients to attend to. If you do wish to visit, I'm pretty sure it's a harmless place."

"Wait. Do you think the place is haunted?"

"I might have heard enough stories." She says then starts making herself busy on her desk again.

I thank the woman and ask for the paper before completely leaving the old motel. The house isn't really far off from here, so I guess it would be a short way if ever something 'haunted' happens. I laugh at myself for even believing half of what she's mentioned. Clearly, I don't believe in ghosts. Her story didn't really shake me, and I really need the job.

Something tells me she's just trying to sell a story. And something tells me, this town doesn't really like me here. As much as my step family never did.


	2. Chapter 2

"Heelshire." I say under my breath, looking at the house through the gate. The place looks old and—unkept. As if nobody's been living here for a while.

 _Should I even go in?_

Before I could answer myself, a drop of rain hits my eyelids, making me squint and look up. Great, now it's starting to rain again. I look around the street and realize that there are no other houses nearby. The way down is foggy and empty. My best choice is the house.

I walk closer trying to find a doorbell, hoping that if ever there is one, it would work.

No doorbell. It's getting dark. I'm almost soaking.

"F*ck it," I struggle to open the gate and push it open. I hurry my way to the house.

Seconds of running to the door felt like an eternity, I could feel every drop of rain on me. I'm soaked and alone in this house.

I let myself inside and glance up, eyeing another hall beside a huge staircase. I'm not surprised that the Heelshires are wealthy, but the fact that they'd leave this place without any caretaker is just a bad idea.

But in my case, I'm not complaining. They're lucky a burglar didn't get in, and I'm lucky the place seems like a good place to crash.

A large thunderclap starts as the door shuts behind me. "Hello?" I manage to speak up, "Is anyone home?"

Now I'm just not sure if I should be relieved that there isn't anyone around or I should be worried.

"That's a pretty large staircase." I randomly say before glancing to the hallway near it and walking through it. No one's been here for how long? What could have happened?

The place is starting to freak me out now, and the thunderclap isn't helping.

Why do I have a feeling like someone's watching me? As if I'm not the only one in this house?

"Hello?" I try to say out loud, walking through the kitchen. "I'm kinda stranded, I'm from the city and I went all the way here looking for a job." I touch my pocket, making sure the poster is still in my pocket in case someone in the house doesn't believe me.

I reach the living room again after walking around, hoping for any of the owners come out. I'm still not sure if I feel comfortable with the idea of staying alone in a huge house of a complete stranger. Lord knows how long the place has been abandoned?

Maybe they're just in a vacation?

I look up. Should I go upstairs? I could.

My feet slowly ascend the stairs, unable to take my gaze away from the huge painting upstairs. It's a portrait of the family.

I look at the windows, they're shut but I could clearly see that it's getting dark. I hope there's electricity in this place. I finally stand In front of the painting and even manage to find the switch to the lights upstairs. It worked, luckily.

I tear my gaze from the large portrait of the Heelshire family. It's as if they're all looking at me, jeez.

"Is anyone home?" I try again. I really have to stay in if the storm isn't going away tonight. I walk around and pass through a room. The bed's unmade and there are a few clothes on it. Someone's gotta be in here. But where is everyone?

"Hello?" I try to make my voice louder, a little scared that someone might pop up behind me and kill me for trespassing. No, why would they kill me? Stop scaring yourself, Julie.

One more try. "I'm Julie, and I came by for the ad you posted a year ago?" Now I just sound stupid.

I observe the room once more before leaving and realize that no one's been in the room for a long time as well. And that kinda creeps me out. I try to think of something else, instead of formulating a theory why.

All I need is to crash here for the night and leave once the storm goes away. That easy. They can't arrest me or anything, right?

I plop myself on the bed and remove my cardigan along with my bag. I sigh and lay on the bed, "I guess I'm staying here tonight."

A loud thump makes me jolt up. My heart starts beating fast.


	3. Chapter 3

Before I could even close my eyes, a loud thump wakes me up. I jolt up from the bed and start to feel shivers down my whole damn body.

Maybe someone just got home? If someone did, boy, I hope they wouldn't mind that I just trespassed all the way inside and made myself too comfy.

Now I'm not so sure if I'm scared of the absence of company earlier or the presence of the owner of the house that has the power to kick me out of the house and out in the rain. _Just go out there and meet the owner._

I slowly approach the door pane, making sure I spot whoever it is first so I can prepare what I have to say. I take a deep breath and reach for the door, slowly pull it open as it makes a faint creaking sound. My hands are shaking. I slowly peek my head until a large rat comes running towards my direction and into the room, making me jump and scream.

My heart is pumping faster than before and I feel myself sweat. Great. Great. Great.

 _Okay. Calm yourself. It's just a huge rat._

The thunder roars again startling me a bit. I quickly make my way to the staircase and realize that the whole place is still empty. I slowly descend the stairs and try to see if there's something different. Nothing changed.

"Is anyone here?" No answer. So it was just the rat. Right now, I'm kinda disappointed that nobody's still home. I guess this place really is abandoned.

I glance at the window at the living room and notice the branches of the trees swaying violently. Storm's pretty bad tonight. And I don't know where to sleep. The place is huge and I feel like there are eyes on me. I head back up and shake my head, "I need to leave tomorrow," I mumble to myself. Right before I ascend again, I hear another thump making me swiftly turn around. The sound came from the kitchen, I think. Should I go there? Are there more rats in this place?

My weird, psychopathic instincts are telling me to go see it, but my mind's telling me not to. I've had enough spooking tonight, I think I'm gonna go sleep back in the room.

I try to take one more step and there goes another thud, but this time, it came from upstairs. It sounded so close.

I guess it's downstairs, then.

* * *

"What a mansion," I whisper to myself, looking straight at a pool table. I've never had a house with an extra room for a pool table. I don't play pool, but I would've definitely learned how if Dean didn't sell the house for extra cash to spend for his two evil daughters. I shake at the thought of my step family.

I'm done with them. I should learn to forget about them. They never treated me like family anyway.

I walk around the table and spot tiny pieces of broken—glass? This place is a mystery.

I know I was spooked out earlier, but now, I think I'm more curious than ever. This. This is the adventure I've been looking for. Could investigating an old mansion be my destiny?

The balls are scattered on the table which means someone definitely played and was kicked out during the game. Where the Heelshire's robbed? If they were, why did the lady didn't tell me?

This is a very interesting house.

Rats making noise, evidences left everywhere, abandoned house—it's a fresh new adventure. Time to learn more, then.

I walk out of the room through an arch and notice paper sitting on an end table near the window. There's a clue.

"What do we have here?" I slowly approach the table and look over the paper:

 _RULES:_

 _1\. No boyfriends_

 _2\. Dress him each morning_

 _3\. Kiss him goodnight_

 _4\. Never leave him alone_

 _5\. Never go in the attic_

 _6\. Help with studies_

I'm guessing this was supposed to be for the nanny? They never hired one? Maybe they got robbed before they even could? I have a long way to go.

No boyfriends. Probably no guests allowed too, huh.

"The attic?" What's with the attic? My psycho senses are tingling. I should go see the attic. I slowly look up and around, searching for a door on a wall that can lead to an attic.

Should I really look for it tonight, though?

Another thump startles me, I snap to my right and notice a shadow quickly pass. Oh my god, I'm not alone?

Another thud.

Someone's here.

* * *

With a bit of hesitation, I quickly run to where the shadow came from. I need to see who the hell it is. I just have to. I've been shouting and hoping that someone would be home, but I got no answer. Making me believe I was alone.

But I was right when I felt eyes on me. There's someone in the house.

And whoever it is, they're playing with me.

"Hey!" I shout after running back to the living room. It's empty. I head to the kitchen where _they_ might be. I'm disappointed once again and see no one. They're quick. Yes, they. I know it's someone. I know someone's in here. I saw a shadow.

I'm panting now, I try to calm myself down, catching my breath. I lean against the arch and try to wipe the bead of sweat on my forehead, then I realize that I still have the paper in hand. I almost crumpled it even more. As I glance to my right, I am startled by a doll sitting near the front door.

* * *

 **Hello, everyone! I hope you're enjoying the fanfic so far. This is it, Julie's finally gonna learn about the boy. The porcelain-faced boy that's been broken to bits and pieces once, but is now back for Julie! Hehehehe. As you may have noticed, Julie is just like a typical girl. She has no mental issues, she's just weird that way. I didn't want to make her up as a complex character with too much issues. I made her simple because like us, who adore 'The Boy' fanfics, we are all normal with a little hint of weirdness and sadness deep inside. So that's how I came up with her personality! Hehe**

 **I would like to thank everyone reading this. I want you all to know that I'm happy I get to share my weirdness to people who are just as weird as me.**

 **I also want to hear from you guys! Just so I know if I'm doing okay with the fanfic, or if you have suggestions. Reviews would really help me update with a better quality fanfic. So long for now!**


	4. Chapter 4

"That can't be you, right?" I find myself talking to a boy doll. Usually, dolls would creep me out right now…but the odd thing is…it's a boy doll.

I'm utterly confused right now and I just hope someone would explain something to me, Jeez.

I stare at the doll as I slowly approach it, my hands ready for any kind of freaky sh*t that might happen. Just in case this thing's alive. My heart starts racing, I feel it thumping faster and harder inside my chest. I need to calm down, or else I'll faint before I even touch the freaking doll.

As I get closer, I notice the face of the doll. Okay, now I'm a little freaked out. I try to reach out to the doll and poke it once, checking to see if it moves. It seems heavy. It almost resembles a life size boy.

I gasp and quickly turn around to see the portrait upstairs from afar, "No." Please don't tell me it's supposed to resemble the kid from the painting.

I glance back at the doll. It hasn't moved, so that's a good thing. It doesn't seem…alive. I approach the doll once again, "Please don't move, please don't move." I slowly take the doll by the shoulders and carry it. Its porcelain face has uneven creases, as if it were broken once then glued back together. "What happened to you?" Its eyes are translucent and almost see real. "Please don't pull a Chucky on me."

A loud thunderclap startles me, making me almost drop the doll, but I quickly catch it close in my arms. Pretty sure someone's gonna be mad if you break again.

I notice a piece of paper tucked inside the doll's shirt. I take it out and head over to the living room. I gently place the doll on the couch to sit as I see whatever is on the paper:

"Take care of Brahms, follow rules"

I'm still confused. I furrow my eyebrows trying to let whatever's happening to sink in. I glance at the doll, and it hasn't moved an inch. If this doll isn't alive…why am I being told to take care of it?

And most importantly, who put it there?

I don't see any reason why I should do whatever this paper is telling me. Fuck it, I'm running away.

I place the paper on the table and slowly walk to the window. I take a quick peek if the storm's still bad. And as if God hates me, it still is. I can't even see anything outside anymore. A lightning strikes across the sky, reflecting on the window glass. I turn around to check up on the doll and it's still on the couch.

Okay, get your sh*t together, Julie.

You stayed and got excited about the "mystery" this house threw at you. Are you really gonna run away now? Well I know that's the best option. But am I really gonna risk running up to a serial killer on the road or stay in the freaky house…taking care of a doll?

I mean…whoever put this thing here…if they wanted to kill me, they would've killed me already?

You wanted an adventure, Julie. You got it. No, wait, I asked for a job as a nanny. I had no idea this doll is what I'm supposed to babysit? Okay okay okay okay I need to do something now.

What do I do?

I feel a little upset in my stomach. God, why am I feeling this now? I feel something boiling inside my stomach. I hear the rain starting to get bad again. I realize my hands are freezing cold.

I just want to stay warm inside a room and get cozy in a warm bed. How did I ever get here?

No, stop thinking about that now. You have to do something about this doll first. I walk to the doll again and try to stop staring at it in the eye. "What now?" I pause, hoping it just starts talking and telling me what it wants instead of freaking me out slowly.

Is this why I felt like there was someone watching me? Turns out it was a doll.

"Oh. The rules." I suddenly remember and run to the papers scattered on the floor a few steps back. I take it and head over to the doll.

I look at the rules and find a clue on what I'm supposed to do now. It is 8 pm already and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with a boy doll at 8 pm.

I browse the short list of rules and guess that I'm probably supposed to put the doll to bed. That's the only choice I have right now anyway.

I take the doll in my arms and head upstairs, assuming that the boy's room is somewhere. I walk past my room and stop at a door. I push it open and step inside to see closely if it resembles a kid's room. The second I look around, I spot a few toys sitting on shelves. Bingo.

Here goes.

"Off to bed you go…" I mumble, slowly laying the doll on the bed. Is that it?

I take a look at the list. _Goodnight kiss_. Was this list really supposed to be for this doll or was it meant to be for the actual little boy? If it was for this doll…did anyone actually follow the rules?

I look around the room. Maybe I'll skip that one for tonight? And skip it forever since I'll run off tomorrow.

Gently, I walk out of the room and head back to mine. I close the door, trying not to make a sound. Once it shuts, I find myself exhale deep. I slowly land on my ass on the chair near the door.

Why is the place empty? Was the ad a trick to find someone to care for the doll? Where are the family?

Maybe a nanny came by, hence the clothes left in this room? _OH MY GOD WAS SHE KILLED_? WAS SHE KILLED BECAUSE SHE REFUSED TO COMPLY WITH THE DOLL? Okay. That's it. I'm leaving tomorrow morning right when the storm stops and the sun rises.

I close my eyes and try to calm down. Suddenly, I hear a soft cry. It's from the other room.


	5. Chapter 5

I watch my feet as I slowly peek through the open room of the boy doll. The crying stopped once I peeked and had my eyes on the doll, still laying on the bed. That doll is alive, I know it. And it'll kill me tonight if I mess up.

But I put it to bed as mentioned in the rules? What could I have done wrong?

I heave a deep breath before taking a step inside the room. Slowly, I made my way to the boy's bedside. I observe the way it's laying on the bed. Nothing seems to be wrong with it? I mean, it's a doll. Nothing could possibly go wrong.

Ah. The covers?

I tuck the boy inside the covers. That's probably better? I stay for a few more seconds before leaving the room and heading back to mine.

The doll's alive. I'm not really that surprised anymore, with the fact that it appeared out of nowhere.

I am startled once again by crying—this time it's louder than the one before. Okay, the crying is creeping me out now. "Alright, alright" I mumble to myself as I head back inside the room only to witness the doll in the same damn position and the crying stopped.

What now? I already tucked it in. Is it scared of the lightning? Does it want me to stay in here? Oh no. I take out the list once again and see if I missed anything. There's literally nothing else to do. I give up trying to figure out anything. I'm tired and sleepy and this doll can just kill me already if it wants to. I don't give a damn anymore. "Here," I say, placing the list on the bedside table, "If you point out to me what's wrong, I'll do it." I challenge the possessed doll. I stay there for a minute and it doesn't even move.

God, what is wrong with me? No, I really shouldn't ask myself that. I know this doll's alive. I can't do this now. I'm just done.

* * *

My heels are resting on the table beside the chair I'm sitting on. I look at my wristwatch and realize I've been counting down the night. But it's only been two minutes since the last cry. Ever since I laid out the list and talked to the doll, the place became quiet.

Until I hear a thud from the room. Don't tell me it walks now. Oh my God is it out to kill me now? Do I go there and face my fate or hide and escape? I turn to look at the window and head towards it. I try opening it and fail. Great, seems like it's all locked permanently. Of course.

I turn to face the door. I guess my only choice is to go back there and get killed. I gently walk to the bedroom door, I hear my own footsteps along with my heartbeat. I don't have any purpose in life anymore, anyway. My real parents are dead. I don't have a job. I don't have an actual place to stay. Nobody in this world even bothered to ask how I am except my step sisters who constantly check up on me if I'm still alive so they can still have my shit when I die.

I'm living a shitty life. And if this is the end of me…then so be it.

I slowly reach for the doorknob, already imagining the life-sized doll standing behind it, holding a knife, ready to pounce on me and slaughter me like the others.

I close my eyes and push the door open—but there's no one.

The sound of the boy sobbing makes me look over to the door again. It's still in there. Great, it wants me to be killed in its own room.

I head to the boy's room, feeling stupid for doing so. But I only see the doll in the same position. Quietly in bed. I walk inside and head to the boy. "What the hell? What do you—"

The paper—the list of the rules—there's a red mark under the words _good night kiss_.

It wants a good night kiss. I start to laugh. It's not out to kill me? It just wants a good-f*cking-night kiss. How relieved I am right now, no one has no idea. My shaking hands slowly reach for the paper as I take a closer look.

I glance back at the doll. It's alive. It didn't kill me, but it left me a message. Maybe if I play along, I won't get killed.

It's not like I have other plans in life anymore. Taking care of a doll is already a privilege.

I reach down, my face too close on the odd-looking doll. I'm actually gonna do it. I close my eyes, trying to avoid to see that I'm kissing a doll, and just land a kiss on its porcelain forehead. It's cold and hard, as expected. I lean back and stare at it for a few seconds.

You want me to play along, I'll play along.


	6. Chapter 6

Slowly, the sound of rain pouring outside wakes me to consciousness. I squint at the quick flash of lightning. Rubbing my eyes, I finally manage to open them and look straight at a doll lying in bed. I wasn't really dreaming about taking care of it. It was an actual choice I made—awake.

I look around me and realize I've slumped on the comfy chair a few steps away from the bed. I'm a little surprised that I fell asleep inside a room with a doll on a bed.

I stand up from the seat and notice a blanket was over me. It has the same pattern with the one on the boy's bed. I don't remember taking this from the doll and putting it over me?

But then again, I shouldn't be surprised if this doll took it and put it over me?

I shake my head at the thought. I stretch a little before walking back to my room. I check my phone and notice that I still don't have enough reception. And I'm reminded that I don't have anyone to call. This makes me sigh and throw the phone on the bed and head back to the boy's room.

It kind of relieves me to think that I am able to stay inside the room, with the boy under my radar, instead of staying somewhere else, not knowing if he's currently on the move to kill me or something.

My stomach gurgles reminding me that I'm still human and am hungry. Does this place even have food?

I walk downstairs and head over to the kitchen. I open the fridge and quickly shut it after getting a hint that I'll probably starve tonight. It's only 11 pm. I have too much time on my hands.

* * *

My phone battery's drained after playing with it for a full hour now. Update: the doll hasn't moved. Does it really go to sleep? I stretch my legs, resting it on the arm of the chair and pull the blanket over me, then continue playing.

I can't believe a 20 year old girl is sitting on her ass, playing tetris, and watching over a boy. Yeah, I am definitely living the dream.

* * *

I am bored off my ass. My phone's dead and I have nothing else to do. I stand from the chair and approach the doll. I glance at the list again.

I can't believe he actually told me what he wants. I can't believe I'm referring to the doll as a he now. I shake my head and notice the rule about the attic. Oh, my gosh. Imagine the amount of clues in the attic. What else could the reason be why no one can come to the attic, right? I slowly put the paper down on the table and make my way out of the door. I need to find the way to the attic.

* * *

My bed feels cozy again. I smell roses. Her dress smell like roses. I'm so happy I know what she smells like. It's been a while since I haven't been with a beautiful woman. The last one f*cked up and left me. It upset me a lot. I had to wallow inside my own bubble of pain when Greta moved away from me.

But I never knew a beautiful woman would come again. She is a gift. A gift from mommy and daddy.

I'm just so happy I have Julie now. Julie. A beautiful name.

Julie. Where could she be? I just woke up from my sleep. We were both just sleeping. She was just there in the chair watching. Where has she gone now?

I remember, I heard a creak from upstairs.

Oh no, Julie, you can't be there. The attic is off limits. That was in the rules! No!

You're gonna make me worry. She's gonna make me worry.

What if she finds out? She's going to leave me. They all leave. She's gonna leave me like they did. But she promised! She promised she'd play with me.

I have to find Julie.


	7. Chapter 7

I scowl at the sight of the open attic door, the ladder settled on the ground. Julie broke the rules. Julie didn't follow the rules mommy and daddy laid out for her, and she will leave me once she finds out. I will be alone again. I will be alone for a long time once again. And it's all because Julie went to the attic. "No, no, no," my hands clench.

She needs to know what she's done.

I grip on the ladder as I pull it upwards and push it to close. I lock the attic door and stare as I hear Julie's muffled voice upstairs. She's banging on the door now. She's shouting and freaking out.

Please stop, Julie. You should have known better. Julie keeps on banging on the attic door. She wants it open. She's so loud. The rain can't drown out the sound of her voice anymore.

She keeps repeating, rapping on the door. Shouting. I'm covering my ears because of the noise. She needs to know what she's done.

"Julie, you have to stay there until you know what you've done, okay?" I say, but her loud banging is louder than my voice.

She needs to know what she's done. She's shouting now.

"You broke the rules! You broke the rules!" I shout.

Julie stops. She's quiet now. I notice the rain stopped. I could only hear my heart pounding. My head pounding. My voice in my head.

I turn around to return to my room, but I hear a muffled voice, "Okay!" I hear the fear in her voice. She knows what she's done. Julie was punished and she's learned.

* * *

The doll locked me up. I fucking messed up. I'm stuck in the attic because the doll locked me up. Oh my freakin' god, it's alive and it locked me up.

I kept banging on the door, thinking I could force it open—but when I heard that angry voice shouting at me, saying that I should've known what I've done—I stopped and gaped in awe. The boy spoke to me. I've pushed it to the limits.

I did the right thing. At least the safest way. I played along, like I've planned. If I want to survive for the night, I have to play along.

* * *

The windows in the attic are sealed. The walls are cold bricks. I am left here, sitting on the cold, wooden floor. I've responded to the boy, he knows I heard him. I can't believe the boy finally spoke to me—and I actually spoke back—and it heard me. I know it did.

Because when I shouted, I heard the lock click.

But I'm still sitting here. My hands on the door, unable to push it open. I'm trying to prepare myself to open it and see the boy, ready to kill me, for real this time.

He killed a girl in his age when he was young, and I don't see any reason why he wouldn't do the same to me. I should be scared for my life, but I realize that I'm left wanting...more.

My heart is racing, and my mind is filled with so much questions.

All the horror movies I've watched and loved—they somehow allowed me to develop a sense of tolerance. Passion. Curiosity.

Suddenly my hands find its way to the door handle and grip it tight. I'm eager to push the door open. And so I did. "Brahms," I say as I quickly push the door open and let the ladder fall hard to the ground, right in front of the doll.

The doll is sitting on the floor, looking up. I knew it.

Slowly, I turn around to descend the stairs. I finally take one last step and carefully land right beside Brahms, still sitting on the floor.

"I get it." I say softly, "I broke the rules."

It doesn't say anything. I stay quiet for a while, waiting, maybe it would speak. But it doesn't. I carefully pick Brahms up with both my hands, carrying him as if it were fragile. Its porcelain face, still looking up. As I walk back to his room, I can't stop staring at his face.

Brahms actually look sad.

I don't feel shivers down my body—the fear I once had when I entered the house—it's all replaced with empathy.

Brahms look sad. The creases on his face, his sad, translucent eyes, and the faint smile— it makes Brahms look so sad.

I lay him back on the bed, tuck him under the covers, and I find myself softly smile at him, as if I feel the sadness that he's felt for years. I slowly move his head back to its normal state, and turn to walk off.

But I stop walking as I remember the kiss.

I turn again to face Brahms, "good night, Brahms." I whisper, my face close to his face, and plant a kiss on his forehead. I stand my ground then walk off again until I hear an indistinct voice,

"Good night."

The voice stops me from walking, I stand there, trying to make out the voice. It sounds soft, as if it came from a child. But in some way, it sounded too hoarse for a child's voice.

"Good night." I recall it again. Could it be?

But the voice—the voice that shouted at me earlier was hoarse and deep—like a grown man's voice. Oh my god. I just realized the voice earlier sounded a little too deep for a young boy.

I glance at Brahms, still laying on the bed.

The voice I heard just now sounded like it was a falsetto. It sounded sweeter than the shouting-Brahms. I liked this voice better.

I realize I'm smiling faintly. "Good night." I say again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, you! I wanna thank you for reading this fanfic. 3 Also, I want to say thank you to those who favorited this story and followed! And also those who sent in reviews. I am so happy to know that you guys are having fun and that I am able to share my crazy world with you guys. Please, don't hesitate to tell me what you think about the ff. I appreciate everything, you guys. Thanks so much.**

 **ENJOY THE NEW CHAPTER!**

* * *

I slowly turn again, the faint smile still planted on my face. I walk off as if I don't want to leave the room. Like I wanna stay in here all night. At least I have company.

It's been a long time since I've had nice company. I was always with people whom I knew didn't like me around. But where I am now, I feel a little content. Content with the quiet company I have—Brahms. Not the best, not the usual, but it's enough. I feel content. Finally, for once in my life, I've felt contentment.

I glance at the window and stand by the door pane. The rain isn't as strong as it was. I guess I can leave tomorrow morning. I lean my hand on the wall and glance back at Brahms, staring at him for a while. I look away and down at my feet. There's some sort of hesitation in me, I don't really get why but…I really don't have any plans yet, and I don't have a job, no place, no other house to go to.

I turn around and make myself fit in the large chair, put the blanket over me and comfortably lean back. Before I close my eyes and sleep, I hear myself say "See you in the morning, Brahms."

* * *

I rub my eyes and try to open them, struggling not to squint at the sunlight peering through the glass window behind me. I'm glad the large chair is blocking most of it, because if it wasn't, I'd be blind. The sun is up-and oh gosh-the sun is actually up. I clamber from the seat as I stand on my feet to look closer through the window. I can actually hear birds chirping, not the loud rain pouring all over the house. I hurry to the door and downstairs to catch a glimpse of the place in a bright, sunny morning.

The house looks much beautiful and much larger.

I exhale, smiling at the sight of the house. As I turn around, I see the large portrait of the Heelshire family. And then I remembered Brahms. I walk back in the room and to his bedside. I look around, searching for a wall clock and notice it's 9 in the morning. I look down at the rules. I had a feeling that I have to get Brahms out of bed, but I'm not quite sure what I'm supposed to do next. I suddenly remember the incident last night. Oh, I wouldn't want that happening again. I wouldn't want this boy locking me up as a punishment. I get that I was wrong, it was my fault, there were rules to follow. This isn't my house and I'm taking shelter, the least I can do is follow house rules. Even if it's for a doll.

My stomach makes a loud sound. God, I'm hungry. I sure hope there's food around. Brahms is to be fed, too, so that means I'll take him with me.

"Let's get breakfast?" I say, waiting for a response. But I only hear silence for the next few seconds.

* * *

I've looked in every cupboard, and the only edible thing I found was captain crunch. And it's been opened, so I'm guessing it's not as crunchy as it advertised. I take it anyway and place it on the table, across where Brahms is sitting.

I put cereal in both bowls on the table. "Do you still have milk?" I ask, looking intently at the boy. Of course, I'm only left hanging, waiting for a response I probably won't get.

I try to look around and there are no other edible food. I open the freezer and spot a few frozen meat and...veggies? I guess that'll be for lunch?

My stomach growls at me again. I'm awfully hungry. "I need to buy some milk since we're having cereal. But...I don't know where to get milk."

Maybe I could go to the store I passed by on my way here? I could use some of my savings. "Wait for me here, okay?" I say and head upstairs and into my room. I take a few bills and head back downstairs. I go into the dining area and carry Brahms and place him on the couch. I pause, staring at him for a while, then take my cardigan and leave through the front door.

* * *

"That'll be..." the lady at the counter takes a quick look at the screen then back up at me, "...23 dollars."

I nod and smile as I hand her my payment. I've gone grocery shopping, enough for a whole week for myself. I guess it's enough to share with Brahms, too, after all, he doesn't really eat the food. I take the bags and head outside of the small store.

I see only a few people outside, some are heading inside and some just finished before me. I notice one of them drive off the opposite direction where I should be going. The path I've chosen to go with is a huge risk. But honestly, I don't mind anymore.

Regardless of the consequences, I can follow the rules. I could use some discipline in my life. I like it. It keeps me going, it gives me purpose. I smile at the thought and start walking back home.

* * *

I struggle to open the front door, reaching for it with my hand as a heavy bag dangles on my wrist. I drop everything on the ground and push the door open, carry it all again and step inside. "I'm back!" I shout, making sure Brahms heard me, even though he's a few steps away. I make my way to the living room, struggling with the bags, "Let's have break-" my arms drop along with the bags.

Brahms isn't on the couch.


	9. Chapter 9

I hurry to the couch and look around. Maybe I put him on that chair? Or that chair? But fuck no, obviously not. He's missing. Where has he gone? My eyes scan the whole place as my mind wanders in my memory. Did I really put him here? I rush inside the kitchen, the dining room, he isn't there.

I close my eyes, sigh, then try to do the only thing that could possibly work, "Brahms?" I start, "Where are you?"

"Play with me," a faint, playful tone of voice startles me. It came from the back, as if Brahms were behind me. Play?

He isn't-he couldn't-but of course. He _is_ a little boy. And little boys play. I see. I suddenly calm myself down. Alright, I didn't lose him. That's great news. He just wants to play a little hide and seek.

I pause then finally exhale a laugh, "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" I chuckle softly, "I'm coming!"

Quietly, I walk around, hoping to find Brahms somewhere. As I open the door to the game room, I expect to spot him, but he isn't. I hurry to the room past it and still fail to find him. Suddenly, I hear a quiet thud upstairs.

"I hear you!" I shout and find myself laughing as I ascend the stairs swiftly. I push the door open to Brahms room, "A-ha!" but see no one. I slowly step inside, hoping he'd be behind the bed, but as I slowly peek, he's still not there.

I jolt up and walk to my room. My door is closed. I slowly reach for the knob and turn it. Gently, I push it open and find Brahms sitting on the floor, his back facing me. "There you are." I say, laughing. I walk around him and notice a book on his lap. It's my book. I glance at my luggage and find it messily opened. I take it from him then carry him in my arms, "How'd you find this?"

It's an old book my mother gave me, about a girl who left town because she was unhappy. She left home, tried to find her happiness, and ended up meeting a boy from a small town. They fell in love. Mom gave it to me, wishing I'd find my happiness as well, right after she apologized that she couldn't give me that happiness. I remember kissing her warm, wrinkled cheeks. She looked so old, but still, so beautiful. She told me to find happiness. My happiness is adventure.

I glance at Brahms. "You like this?"

No answer. Suddenly, I hear something. It's my stomach growling once again. I chuckle realizing that was me. But I laugh, "Was that you?" I shake my head, "Let's have breakfast first, okay? And maybe I'll read that book to you." I walk and place the book on top of the dresser, "I don't know if you're old enough to know about those things, though." I chuckle, speaking to Brahms as I walk out of the room.

* * *

After lunch, I took Brahms to the piano. Surprisingly, my rusty skills of piano playing still works. I pressed on the keys as if I still knew how to play Nocturne. It was the only song I could play. "Do you have any piece lying around?" I asked Brahms, who was sitting up beside me. I looked down at him, quietly sitting. He hasn't said a word since last night. And I wish he spoke something. Honestly, I feel like he's alive sometimes.

* * *

I'm currently sitting across Brahms, as I had him settled on the chair, his back facing me. I had to play music for him through an old player. It was kinda loud when I switched it on, but I hesitated to turn it down. He likes his music.

* * *

I want to take a shower. But it says in the rules that I can't leave him alone, so I'm a little frustrated. I don't know where to put him. I approach Brahms and lean down, "Hey, I'm just gonna take a shower. May I?"

My eyes wander around the sight of Brahms' clothes and up to his face. I don't know why but his face looks less sad now. I don't know if that's just my imagination, but I feel better knowing that nothing bad has happened. Maybe I can take this opportunity to have a little time to myself in a nice hot shower. "I'll be back in 10," I tell Brahms and leave the room.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hello! I am truly sorry for the late update. I have recently come back to uni :( and I was immediately flooded with readings and all that shiz. Plus, I did not want to force a story into happening, as I wanted to create every chapter as interesting and exciting. I want everything to still be good enough for you guys that's why it took me so long. So here it finally is. I hope you guys still like how the story went!**

 **As always I would love to hear from you. Thank you for sticking around! Here, have some Brahms.**

* * *

The heater isn't working well, but it'll do. I turn the knob and allow the lukewarm water pour over me as I close my eyes and enjoy the silence filling the room, as if I'm not used to it yet. All I hear is water hitting the floor.

Showers are so nice, I smile at the thought. Suddenly, I remember Brahms. Should I change his clothes? Should I do some sort of cleaning to him as well? I guess not.

I turn around and tilt my head upwards, savoring the water all over my wet hair. I start caressing my arms with soap, gently rubbing the bar against my skin. Then I move my hand up to my neck down to my chest. Then I rub soap all the way down to my calves. I bend over, reaching for my ankles as well. Suddenly, I hear something that startles me, making me open my eyes. I rub them, trying to get water off my eyes to see clearly. I pause for a few seconds, staring at the door.

Somebody's getting impatient.

I start to wash off the soap off my body and the shampoo off my hair. I quickly dry myself and take the towel and carefully wrap it around me. My feet touches the cold floor as I start to leap to the mat in front of the sink. My hands reach for my under garments then I put them on. I hurry to brush my teeth and run into my bedroom.

I shut the door behind me to freely take my towel off. I start drying my hair while looking around my clothes that are sitting on the counter. Wait what-why are these folded on the counter?

Oh, Brahms is doing my clothes now? I squint, still staring at my clothes. It's as if they were hurriedly place on top. But one was particularly separated from the others, it was laid out on the bed. I walk closer to my bed and realize that it's my short, black dress. Am I thinking what he's thinking too? Oh hell no I am not wearing that tonight. I've been saving this dress to wear it somewhere special-not when I'm at home babysitting?

Besides, it's the only thing I have that's special to me. I swore to wear it first when I feel happy. It's ironic, I know. But it's a dress that I found that actually felt like wearing. Usually I'd sport a black top and dark jeans with boots. Buying a black dress is rarely my kind of errand.

I take the dress and hang it on the wall. "Maybe next time," I say as if Brahms could hear me.

* * *

"Time for bed, okay?" I say as I carry Brahms to his bed. I tuck him inside the covers and gently plant another kiss on his forehead, then I stand back. A faint smile escapes my lips, "I'll see you tomorrow."

I turn around and start walking until I eye my book on the counter. Oh yeah, I remember I promised him I'd read the book to him a few days ago. I turn to face him again, "Do you want me to read to you?" I pause, waiting for a response. I hear nothing. I take the book anyway and head back to Brahms' bedside. I sit near him, "I hope you don't mind if I'm this close..." I open the book, "I'm not that sleepy anyway, I figured I could finally read this to you."

"Sorry I forgot about it." I chuckle and glance back to the first page of the story. "Better listen well. This story is...really special to me." I sigh and start telling Brahms the story behind the special book. My fingers trace the first page repeatedly as I tell him about the happiness I've been searching. "...So yeah. It's all about finding your happiness. At least that's what my mother wanted me to do." I pause for a while and stop tracing my finger on the paper, look down at it, then finally start reading the story.

* * *

I start humming the verse to Katy Perry's "Unconditionally". I've had my playlist on shuffle and it's the first thing I heard when I was jogging around the house outside. It's been a 12 days, I think, and the cycle's still going. I follow the rules, attend to myself, spend time with Brahms then go back to sleep. It's an endless cycle, but honestly, in those twelve days, it seemed like time flied so fast. A smile creeps on my lips as I run back into the house.

Brahms let me go out once in a while, and I appreciate that about him. I haven't received any kind of punishment since the first one. I take my earplugs off and place my phone on the living room table. I try to catch my breath as I walk upstairs, preparing the heater. I remember the adrenaline rush the first time I heard Brahms' voice. I could barely remember it, since I haven't heard from his voice for a long time, too.

The only thing I hear lately is the sound of my voice, my heartbeat, the record, and the songs on my playlist. I honestly...miss that falsetto-sounding voice of Brahms. Honestly, it would be nice to hear from someone again. But not just anyone. Brahms. His voice. Because my curiosity is at its peak once again, urging me to make Brahms speak.

I close the door behind me and start taking my clothes off before heading off to shower.

* * *

Sometimes, the same pattern happens after I get out of the shower: my clothes are taken out of my wardrobe, and a particular piece of clothing is laid out on the bed. I finally got to figure out why. It's Brahms telling me what to wear. It doesn't always happen. Sometimes I'd get out of the shower earlier after hearing weird noises and end up not seeing clothes on the bed. Maybe it's cos I'm not allowed to see Brahms yet or he won't show himself actually doing it. I guess he thinks I'll freak out if I see a doll walking to my bed, laying down pre-chosen clothes.

He would choose mostly shirts that I rarely wear. Like plain white tees or tanktops. I know I should be weirded out because a young boy is telling me what to wear, but I have a crazy idea that somehow, his soul has...grown up. How else would he have an idea to make me wear clothes decently or differently? A young boy wouldn't even mind. _I don't know._

This time, I hear a creak-I'm pretty sure it came from outside. Not the bathroom door, but my bedroom door. Or his. I'm tempted to sneak out and peek. Would he hear me? Would he know?

I mean he's done this and I never attempted to catch him, so maybe he wouldn't know? Just one peek, and I won't do it again. After all, I've been nice? I've followed the rules? There's nothing wrong if I just go out and take a look on how he is? What he looks like when he walks? When he moves?

Oh, damn it. I have to see. I quit biting on my nails and quietly get out of the shower, but leaving it open, allowing it to drown my footsteps out of the bathroom. I dry myself with the towel and slowly and quietly put on my bra and undies, then cover myself with the robe hanging behind the door. I quietly pull the bathroom door open, making sure I don't make a sound. I peek from the small crack before completely walking out of the bathroom until I see a shadow pass. It's coming from my room. Judging from the angle-oh my god-it's coming from my room. I take a deep breath and quietly exhale the nervousness I'm feeling.

I'm leaning on the cold wall, still thinking if I should walk out of the bathroom.

If he catches me, what's the worst thing that can happen? It's not in the rules, anyway. I try to recall the list and reassure myself that I'm not breaking any. I nod once, take a deep breath, and slowly slide out of the door.

My body freezes.

A tall figure is standing right outside my door. A figure of a _man_.


	11. Chapter 11

**OH MY GOD HERE IT IS, FINALLY. BEEN A LOONG LONG WHILE. I FINALLY HAVE A GREAT IDEA AND IM SO EXCITED TO SHARE THE STORY WITH YOU GUYS! ENJOY THE NEW CHAPTER AND MAKE SURE YOU TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK 3**

 **Thanks for being patient!**

* * *

"Oh..." Julie's body trembles, shivers shoot down her body, her eyes glued to the figure, "...dear God." she manages to say under her breath. She stands still, frozen in the same position until she notices the figure move. Quickly, she slides behind the wall, covering her own mouth and trying to prevent herself from squirming.

She tries to breath slowly, asking herself her next move. Where does she go? What does she do? There is some man in the house and it took her this long to find out?

Julie slowly peeks once more and she sees a man walking away from the room slowly, and lightly, as if he's done this so many times that he's used to sneaking in and out of the room. Only the baggy long sleeves and pants of the man are visible with the help of the faint light of the wall lamps.

She quickly leans back again and slowly slides inside the bathroom, making sure she does not make a sound as she shuts the door.

* * *

Slowly, my back slides down against the cold wall, I stop until I'm fully sitting on the bathroom floor, still staring and trying to wrap my head about my dilemma. Luckily, I managed to stop myself from trembling. I've already convinced myself that this should not shock me at all, because if I tolerate the idea of a living doll, what more could freak me out?

Yeah, Julie. That's right. Calm yourself down. It's a human being. At least it's a human being, right? But what the hell is this human being doing here? Does he know Brahms?

I slowly stand up, trying to plan my next move. Of course...I'm gonna have to keep showering. Yes. Pretend that I don't know anything yet. Yes. I get back in the shower and continue bathing myself until I can't pretend that I wanna go to my room so bad already, but I have to stay here for a while. Think hard what to do.

The water's starting to get cold, though.

I turn the knob and quickly my body shivers from the cold temperature in the bathroom. I wrap the towel once again around my body and slowly approach the door. My head turns to the mirror as I heave a deep breath and repeat the rules in my head that I made for myself:

Pretend that you didn't see anything. Not unless you're sure of what's happening. Stay calm and just do what you always do with Brahms. Don't freak out, don't look so dazed. Play it cool. It's just a human being. He won't be there.

 _What was he doing-_

No, stop. The contemplation starts later. Main objective is to get inside my room and just do my thing.

My hands reach for the knob and I turn it, push the door open and step out of the bathroom.

* * *

You're inside the room, you're safe. It's okay.

I lock the bedroom door and turn around to see a black tee shirt laid out on the bed. This is the second time this shirt was chosen. I'm not complaining though, it's a very comfortable shirt. I slowly walk towards my bed, my mind now wandering off-

Oh my God. It all makes sense now.

The clothes, the carefully-chosen clothes, the doll-could he be-is he-it must be!

 _The man I saw is accountable for all the freaky fucking thing that's been going on in here?!_

And it's not the doll.

I...I...

I suddenly have the urge to laugh, I laugh so hard and sit on the bed. I put my face in my hands, laughing at the thought of the stupid things I believed for the past few days. There's no supernatural bullcrap. There's no haunted boy doll. There's just...a man. I stop laughing and finally catch my breath. I'm not crazy. Not at all. This all makes sense and it's all not because of anything haunted or magical-it's a human being.

My eyes glance down at the shirt. "Why do you make me do these things?" I say under my breath, and touch the shirt.

I have to find out. I need to find out.


	12. Chapter 12

**ARE YOU GUYS READY FOR THIS CHAPTER? IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN IN A FEW MORE CHAPTERS. I hope you guys are enjoying it! Are you liking it? Hating it? Let me know.**

 **Also, I hope you are able to see slowly who Julie really is with her little mentions about her life before all this. Do you think she's sane enough to deal with everything and run away? Or do you think she's gonna stay because she's a little…cuckoo herself? If so, what were the hints you got that made you think she's also a lil craycray or sane?**

 **I'll post the next chapter if I get 100 views!**

* * *

I set the table for the both of us for lunch.

His voice sounded so soft...but it's as if it is not a little boy's voice. _It's him_ , isn't it? Is it true? I'm not crazy and that doll isn't haunted? It would all finally make sense if it really is the man who's been doing all of this.

I place the plate on the table and pause for a second, staring nowhere.

The image of the man's clothing flashes in my head. He was wearing a sweater and some pants. I couldn't really look close but it's already proof that this man's been in here for years, maybe. He looked so untidy as if he's hidden himself from _me for a long, long time._ Where could he possibly be now? Where does he hide? How does he know my every move?

I suddenly feel a presence. I look around but there's no one in the dining hall.

 _Cameras._

Suddenly, my eyes look up at the ceiling; slowly scanning one corner to another. I glance at the shelves and my eyes focus on every miniature figurines. I quickly pace back to the door and make sure Brahms isn't around. I return inside the dining hall and quietly search the room, but this time, I'm a little cautious and conscious. If there's a camera in here, then he knows that I know. And if he knows that I know...I'm dead.

I should probably leave while I still have the chance? But where will I go? I don't have a place to stay. I can't...I can't go back to America. I'm gonna be a laughing stock. Sure, my stepdad would welcome me back, even my step sisters, since they want my signature in that certificate so they can finally have their half of mom's will. If I come back, it's like giving up. It's almost like I'm forgetting my promise to mom.

Flashes of her face appear in my head again. Why was I so reckless?

I glance at the dining table set for two. It used to be like this, too. Two plates left, food untouched. She would wait for me to get home, but I would always stare from the window, keeping my pride intact and refusing to go inside the house. She sits there patiently, waiting for me. I remember my stepfather approaching her and convincing her to leave the table, but she refuses. I don't hear her voice but I see her refusing him. Then he hits her. Hard. I suddenly remember the reason why I didn't want to come home that night.

She didn't want to leave him. I wanted her to. I never liked him. He always hit her when he had too much to drink. He never cared if he would wake up in the morning to see a bruise on her. He cared in the beginning, made me believe. But when he became part of us, when the two sisters came, he didn't care about me, he didn't care about mom. He didn't care about anything. And so, I stopped caring too. I did what I wanted to, since no one had to tell me what to do. I saw the positive side in it: I was responsible with my own actions. I could do anything I want, as if there were no rules to follow, no heart to break when I get home. I believed in this so much that I was blind enough to ignore my mother's state. I was blind enough to realize that she was the only one who cared for me. The only one watching my every move. She cared enough to nag at my behavior. Cared enough to notice how obnoxious and rebellious I was. Cared enough to see how I changed since he came. Cared enough to see that I wanted attention. Cared enough to see through me.

I snap back to reality. Right now, I feel like someone's seeing through me.

Keeping my normal stance, I look around as if I'm just looking around. This isn't breaking the rules, is it?

My hands slide across the empty shelves as I peek outside, inside, between, or even its corners. I touch the figurines and the pots and find nothing. I flip the frames sitting at the next shelf and still...nothing. I continue looking for some kind of lens anywhere until I hear a thud behind me. I jump in shock as I turn to look behind me. Brahms is on the floor. Shit.

"Hey!" I say. Shit shit. Don't shake. Or he'll know.

I look around the dining hall as I approach Brahms then take him in my hands. "Sorry. I kinda lost track in my own thoughts." I let out a nervous chuckle and have him sit on the chair. "Let's eat?" I smile lightly and start on my food as he sits quietly, food on his plate.

He didn't see me, did he? And I'm not talking about the doll.


	13. Chapter 13

Julie's acting weird.

I sit on my bed and gently take my Julie doll, I caress its body. "Why are you acting weird?" I ask the doll,

Two nights in a row, you always take up so much time alone. Do you not want to spend time with me anymore?

"What were you looking for in the dining room, Julie?" I ask sternly now. I'm starting to have doubts, my hands touch the Julie doll's shoulder gently. I hope Julie could hear me. I hope she would tell me. I don't want her to act this way. She stayed. She was here. She was okay.

She fed me on time. She showered on time. But now, she takes too much time alone!

I look at the doll on the ground under me. Oops. I threw Julie doll on the floor. I reach for it. I'm sorry I threw you on the ground. I...I just want you to stop acting weird, Julie.

I remember her looking outside a couple of times today, too. It's not like she had to go to the store today?

My hands grip on the doll. She's supposed to go tomorrow. My grip tightens. I whisper my warning to the Julie doll, hoping Julie can hear me as well, "You're not planning to leave me, are you?" my voice is shaking. I notice.

"Oh, you're not leaving me like everyone else." Shivers crawl down my body as I glance at the letter at my table, I see images of my parents in my head. They left me. And everyone else. They left me. Alone. And now Julie wants to leave, too.

I cross my arms and fold my knees and hug them close to my chest tight. The silence-it's getting louder. It's as if I'm alone again. It's so silent. It's too silent. Too silent. I jump up and rush to the door. I'm panting, beads of sweat trickling down my face. It's too quiet. It can't be too quiet.

I peek and see that the seat in my room is empty. Julie's not here.

Rushing back, I take a bat, then I quickly run back outside. She's not going anywhere tonight.

I hear something from her room.

I take the way through the walls, passing through every bend, and finally I hear a louder sound. She's inside her room. I take a peek from a small hole near her closet. I can hear her walk around. Then she appears, her arms full of her clothes.

 _She's preparing to leave._

I hold the bat closer-

"Aha!" she shouts as she holds up a long clothing in front of her, "found you."

I quickly move away from the hole, "I guess I got no choice..." I hear her and then her footsteps walk away,

Slowly, I look through the hole, trying to make out what she's talking about. I see her take her shirt off, her back facing me.

I see her bra. I see her bare back.

Julie's slowly taking her pants off, too.

I feel my stomach churn a little bit. My hands start to grip on the bat. She pushes her pants down, and I see a blue garment underneath...but she stops. She turns and I exhale deep. She looks around the room, her eyes curiously searching for something.

She knows someone's watching her.

She takes the dress, drapes it on her, then continues to remove her pants under the dress. She quickly exits her room.

She knows someone's watching her.

I walk back to my room and see her there in the dress. She did not shower tonight.

She knows someone's watching her.

* * *

I sit up and read a book. My eyes unconsciously glance at Brahms on the bed, and like the usual, he's not moved an inch. Clearly because the doll's not alive. And someone else is making it look as if he's alive.

I straighten my night gown, making it drop to it's normal length above my knees. I hate that I forgot to do my laundry since I had too much in my head. I hate wearing this night gown, especially when I'm pretty sure someone can see me. I sigh in exasperation. How could I fucking forget to do my laundry? This was such a bad idea. I'm just attracting more attention. I mentally shiver at my shameful state. I should probably just wear any of my old clothes instead of putting out.

But I didn't even shower. And now I'm gonna wear an old shirt? JESUS.

Well, if this is what it takes just to not be watched-

I'm being watched. And I'm wearing a night gown. If I'm wearing this and attracting him...then I might have a huge chance to see the man close again.

I'm making myself bait.

Well if that's my only choice, since I can't shower yet to take that sneaky peek, this will be my first try.

I'm shooting for the stars on this one.

* * *

She knows someone's watching her.

The words repeat inside Brahms' head. He hears his own voice, and it's loud, but externally, he stays silent as he looks down at the peaceful sight of Julie. Julie passed out on the seat, like almost every night. She hums in her sleep, Brahms says to himself inside his head. Brahms fiddles with the rope in his hand. He moves closer to her but stops once she shifts from her previous position. Julie's chest is exposed, the lamp light shining down from her torso down to her thighs.

 _She's flawless._

Brahms hears himself say it again. He aches to touch her skin. He aches to lay his fingertips on her skin and trace it down until her feet. He wanted to touch her face, too.

But he doesn't. He turns away, scared that she might wake up and see him. _But how is he going to tie her up_? he asks himself.

Should he tie her up now, she won't be able to escape tomorrow. Brahms knows that she's supposed to leave to do the groceries. If he lets her leave, that'll be the end of it. She will never come back.

He turns to face her again. "I can't let you leave, Julie. I cannot." He rambles.

A thunderclap roars out of nowhere, and Julie shifts from her seat again. Brahms is aware that she might wake up.

"...Brahms..." Julie mumbles, her eyes shut still. Her soft voice echoed in Brahms' head. It was soft. "So soft. Soft and sweet." the voices told him. She stops moving. Suddenly, slowly, Julie opens her eyes only to see the doll in its bed, the lamp still on, and the door still open a bit. She falls back asleep.

Brahms stays behind the door, darkness completely hiding him away from vision. He stays there, panting quietly as he can. He could not do it. He could not tie her up. He could not risk showing himself to her. He's afraid she would be scared of him.

He wanted her to be scared of him, so she would not leave, yet he could not let himself do it. He did not want her to see him yet. Brahms rushes back inside the walls, hugging himself, he rocks on his bed, confusion in his mind. He wants to tie her up, but he can't because she never broke any rules. And if she wakes and sees him, she will leave. He will hurt her for no reason, and he could not have that. Or else he would have to punish himself.

Brahms stops rocking himself and slowly lies down on his bed and reaches for the Julie doll.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey everyone! Just wanna thank you guys for the 6k views on this fanfiction.  
I really appreciate every single view and reviews from you guys. I hope you  
guys will like how the story goes. **

**SHOUTOUT TO: "NoOne", a reader from Germany! Thank you for the kind words! You liking Julie  
is just a huge compliment. Thank you so much. || SHOUTOUT TO: "K. Riley" thank you also so  
damn much for the support and for not thinking this ff isn't trash.**

 **Had this storyline in my head for so long and  
I'm super excited to show you guys how it's going down!  
-Crista**

* * *

Morning came, I stretch in my seat. I guess I overslept a bit. The weather is beautiful today, I turn to look through the window. I start to think what my plans are for today.

I should probably serve breakfast first then head out to get the groceries. I go back inside my room for a while to check if I still have money for food and...turns out I still have enough. Probably enough for a month.

Clearly, I should stop lying to myself and push myself to find another job outside the mansion. Or else I'll be starving to death since nobody really pays me here. I do get a place to stay but I don't have money for a lifetime supply for food.

Lifetime supply.

Ha. I laugh a bit, do I really plan on staying here all my life?

* * *

Julie has her purse as she plays my favorite track on the player. She turns to me and says she has to go to the groceries.

"Be back after an hour, like the usual." she reassures me. I believe her.

She won't be able to leave me unless she has her money. If she does plan to leave, sooner or later, she will run right back. I hid Julie's money. I left enough inside her purse for the groceries.

She cannot leave unless she has her money.

Money is the central medium that makes the world go round. That's what my father told me when I asked about the book he had in the library about something called Capitalism. It was one of my favorite books, out of all that told me about the world.

My father told me that my nannies will never leave me because they need the money.

Julie cannot leave me because she needs the money.

She will never leave me.

I repeat the words in my head as I wait for her to come back.

* * *

It's been over an hour. The living room is messy now. Torn book pages are everywhere.

It was my fault. Julie will have to clean it up. She will clean it up because it is her fault. I already know why she's already gone for a long time.

She left.

She will never come back unless she is begging people for money. And when she comes back, I will give her the punishment she deserves for leaving me. She will be punished. And then she can care for me again and she will never be able to leave. I will tie her up and make her care for me.

I hear the clock ticking.

Julie left me alone.

She will be punished. She-

The front door opens.

* * *

"Damn...heavy...bags!" I curse loudly as I manage to finally let go of the grocery bags once I get inside the house. I exhale and look down at all 8 bags. Jeez. I managed to carry all that home. I place my purse on the end table in exasperation and turn to look at the living room only to see the whole place turned upside down.

My face flushes, I feel my blood boiling.

You cannot be serious.

For some reason, I felt the need to shout "Brahms!" I look up, my voice angry. I approach the living room and see Brahms sitting at one of the chairs. "What in God's name happened in here?!"

Seriously? I do the groceries, I cook him food, I pretend I'm not bothered by everything freaky in this house and I get this? No. I am not having this. This whole 'boy' image needs to stop.

"Are you kidding me?" I stomp my way in front of the doll, but hoping the man can hear me damn well. _He is totally having it. I will not be treated like this. Freak me out all day, but don't take advantage of me._

"I go out to fetch you your needs, work everyday taking care of you, and you give me this?!" I pause, panting as I control my rage. "Do you know how much effort I had to exert today? I have to spend my money on food I dont need just to satisfy you. I carried too many shit today just to come back here to see you do this playful thing? No. I will not have this playful shit today."

I glance at the piano next to where the doll is sitting. Found a perfect punishment.

"No piano playing today." I say and take the doll in my arms. "You're going inside your room. I mean it. That's what you get for being a bad boy today."

We reach the room and I let him sit in my seat, "You understand?" I sigh, suddenly my rage drains down. "I don't like getting mad, okay? But that was just overboard. I don't know what I did that made you do what you did but...no. Just no."

I sigh again, a little more calm. "Now you wait for me here until I deal with the groceries." I storm out of the room and head downstairs. I glance once more at the living room and sigh.

Guess I got an extra chore.

* * *

I don't know what his deal is, but all I'm doing here is my work.

Speaking of work...once I get inside my room, I open my purse. I used all of my money for the groceries. I'll have to be a little thrifty with the food consumption this time.

I see a piece of paper inside and unfold it. I remember taking it from a post near the grocery store. It's a job advertisement: to work at the supermarket as a cashier. I guess I could use some of the cash. That's a small way to start.

I fold it again and put it in the drawer. I pause.

I can't really go there right now. What happened in that living room...I know I'm the reason why he had to do that crap. I don't really wanna add to that again. I guess it's my fault somehow too. I glance at my watch. Impatient thing.

* * *

I don't move the doll. It's the first time I saw Julie get mad at me. It would anger her more if I play with her. Instead of going anywhere, I just watch her in the kitchen. I follow her rule. She's mad at me.

Later on, she comes back inside my room. I see her smile.

I still feel a little sad but I'm watching her carefully.

She leans down and apologizes.

I feel happy again. She's forgiven what I've done.

"How about that piano session?" she asks.


	15. Chapter 15

I look at myself in the mirror, pretending to pamper myself as I buy myself some time to think. I guess if the mysterious man really wanted to kill me, he would have. The worst he's done so far is mess up the living room. And so, I really should not worry. But the thought of having someone watch over me? God. I can't.

There's this overflowing curiosity inside me. I know I should leave, but I don't think that's a good idea.

 _Or you're just making excuses because you have no place else to go._

No. Well. Yes. A bit. But mainly, because I need to know who that man is and what he's doing, and why he's making me do this. And why he has a doll that needs a nanny. Why he can't do it himself?

Why would he care about the boy? He can't possibly be the father? And the albums in the attic are enough evidence to tell me that the boy did not have siblings. So who is _that_ man?

I start brushing my hair and look down at the ground. I suddenly hear crying from the other room. I glance at my wristwatch and realize I've been in my room for a long time. I can't take up too much time, I tell myself. Or else he'll find out something's off. I notice the crying suddenly stops. Is it the doll? Or is it…the man? Now I have to look for speakers instead of cameras. I sneakily looked around and checked everywhere or possible camera wiring but I found nothing. But the speakers and mic? That has got to be the only way he's able to speak to me.

 _But there is no sign of wiring?_

I think long and hard again, trying to figure out how and where. The vent? I look straight at the vent and stand up. I carefully examine the vent and still...nothing.

The crying starts again. I turn around, shaking my head in disbelief and confusion as I head to Brahms' room.

* * *

I open my eyes and see a ray of sunshine at the ceiling. Same thing, different day. I look around and see Brahms in the bed. Oh, Brahms. I look at the doll and don't have the same connection anymore.

The instinct is there, I still am willing to care for the doll. But the impression that it's the same Brahms I know, the boy—the doll with a soul—it's just not the same anymore. I have this desire to know the truth. I want to know who's behind this, and why someone would want me to take care of a doll and have pleasure in watching me do so.

I need to know. I need...I need to shower.

It's been a long time.

* * *

I turn the shower knob and keep it on, I glance at the bathroom door. It's time. I stand by the door, keep my ear pressed against the door, listening to the silence.

Then I hear it. It's so faint that I could only hear it when my ears are pressed hard against the door to feel the soft vibration of the bedroom door opening. He's inside. Now, I take my chance.

I open the door a crack, but quietly.

What happens then? The voice in my head echoes, What happens if I find out the truth about this man? I know I'll probably be weirded out and quit lying to myself and finally leave the mansion. I don't belong here. It was all a stupid mistake.

Should I go back home? No, of course not. That will never be an option.

I take a deep breath and open the door then step out cautiously, and keep my back against the wall. I move closer to the door pane and slowly take a peek...and there he is. I see a man casually searching for the next shirt for me to wear. I should start showering in the morning so I have enough light to see him, I shout at myself mentally. My heart is pounding against my chest...I feel a rush. Suddenly, it's as if he could hear me. He stops what he's doing and I notice his head slowly turning. I hurry behind the large shelf along the corridor and stay quiet. I cover my mouth as I realize I'm panting too loud. I hear him. He heard me.

His presence is so strong. I feel him at the corridor.

* * *

Julie keeps her back pressed against the shelf as Brahms quietly closes the door and leaves. She makes sure she isn't seen as she tries to peek once again and realize that Brahms had left. She wonders if he completely abandoned their typical cycle: his duty to pick out her clothing. She pauses for a while, making sure that he's completely gone, and then she makes her way into her bedroom only in her loose, white shirt draped and completely covering her body, exposing her thighs.

Her room is empty. She shivers at the cold temperature, and it shoots down her spine as she sees a blue shirt laid out on the bed. She leans against the door pane and sigh in relief. She walks back into the bathroom to continue showering and closes the door.

A figure steps out of the shadows along the corridor, exposing Brahms' features. His hands are inside his jacket pockets, his porcelain mask reflecting the light from outside the window, but under, his eyes are fixed, staring at the bathroom door.


	16. Chapter 16

I keep my eyes closed as I allow the warm water run down my face and body in the shower. I take the remaining time to calm myself down. The second I laid eyes on the man, I felt my blood rush through my veins. I...I felt excited, eccentric, anything but scared. I close my eyes, not moving, and just trying to recall the man...or should I say guy. His body features somehow gave me a hint that this guy's not as old as I think he is. The way his shoulders and arms slump down; his whole composition. His dark, curly hair gave it away, too. It seemed fit for someone a little younger. But his clothing; the knitted black-blue-or is it green? His cardigan loosely draped over him. Even his pants were a little loose. But the thing that struck me most was the mask. I'm sure he was wearing a mask. I curse myself for not looking closer to see what kind of mask it was. But I'm sure it's white or something.

Why would he wear a mask?

Did he know I was going to sneak in to see him?

Possibly. Just so he could still somehow hide his identity from me.

I sigh. I'm lucky enough that he didn't catch me. Or else...I don't know. I honestly don't know what I would've done if he saw me there. It's better off this way. It's better I calm myself down so I can compose myself.

I brush my palm across my face and turn the shower knob a little. I keep my eyes closed. I can do this. He won't hurt me. If he wanted to, he would have.

For some reason, I remember that I kind of wished there would be someone home when I found the house. But I didn't know some guy with a doll lived here.

...And he let me. I have to give him credit for that, and the fact that he let me live even if he 'punished' me last time in the attic. All he asks for is I follow the rules, anyway.

The rules. The only thing that gives me purpose. Something to keep me going instead of boring my ass to death all day.

I completely turn the shower off. I wipe my face and cross my arms against my chest, rubbing my arms as I suddenly feel cold. It's starting to rain again. I hear the tiny drops hit the roof.

I step out and stand in front of the mirror. I wrap the towel around my body, staring at myself in the mirror. I notice the space I am in. I notice my state, my situation. This is probably the only exciting thing that ever happened in my life.

Guess I'm lucky enough to be given some kind of purpose. Even if it's to take care of a doll for some guy. Totally weird but... _oh my God._

 _How does he live? Eat? Sleep?_

Could he possibly live in the...attic? Probably why he doesn't want anyone in there! And the food he eats? Probably the food I put inside the freakin freezer! Oh my god. He eats the frozen left overs? Jeez. My face drops in my hands, I look up again and shake my head in disbelief.

Poor, poor guy. Why won't he just...why didn't he just come out the first day to tell me what he needed?! Instead of starving himself in his own house? He could've approached me. Told me he needed food...and that he has a doll to cope with whatever issue he has.

 _Okay, that would have probably never worked and made me leave._

I know what it feels like to struggle. And it's so unfair that I'm living in his house like this.

What do I do? I can't just shout around the house saying I know he's around and I'm willing to help. No. No. That would be ridiculous. I need to play it safe. I'm not even sure if he'll show himself, since he didn't even show himself the first time in his _own_ house.

I'll have to convince him somehow.

I start to realize I'm freezing naked. I take my laundry and step out of the room and casually walk back into my room. I put my old clothes in a hamper and go in front of the shirt he laid out. I can't help but let out a light smug smile. It's...actually a pretty nice gesture. I shake my head, wear the shirt over me, the towel still wrapped around my body. I wear my black leggings, then finally unwrap the towel.

I glance at the door and walk out of it, and off I go to Brahms' room.

I step inside his room with a light smile, "Ready for bed?" I ask, looking at the doll sitting on my seat. "Let's tuck you in." I eye my book at the table, "And maybe read you a little of my favorite book, too."

* * *

She didn't leave. She's pretending she didn't see.

Or is she just pretending tonight then plan to leave in the morning, again?

Julie touches the shirt I laid out on the bed. I see her lips form into a smile. She's smiling.

But it might be a facade. I peek intently through the hole, watching her put on her clothes. It's difficult to look away when Julie undresses. I get a tingly feeling in my body. My hands start gripping my cardigan as I watch her. I hear myself pant under the mask.

Julie puts on her garments but I look away and head back to my room. I still have to be careful. I can't be less careful or else she'll slip out of my hands. Sooner or later, Julie will leave. Just like everyone else.

I remember Greta taking care of me. But once she finally met me, the human Brahms, she lost her mind. It was a bad memory. Greta tricked me. Greta never loved me. But I won't be tricked again. Not this time.


	17. Chapter 17

I ascend the stairs and take one last glance at the messy living room. I sigh. I've completely procrastinated over cleaning the living room. It's just because I could not get my mind straight after finding out about the guy living in the attic. I hear a voice in my head telling me to check it out just to find out if he really lives there...but I stop myself. I remind myself that if he's ready to show himself, he will.

 _Convince him_ , I tell myself. Convince him that it's safe.

It's not as if I'd hurt him? I did lash out on the doll because of what he did to the living room, but that's the worst I can be. It's not really that bad. So I don't see a reason why he'd be afraid of me.

I drop the subject and just head straight to Brahms' room.

* * *

"Hey," I try to say calmly as I can say as I enter Brahms' room and see him sitting at my seat, "Sorry took me a while." Instead of approaching him, I start up the old record player and play his favorite. As I work on the player, I feel myself smiling, realizing that the song's starting to grow on me, too. I close my eyes and turn around and look at Brahms.

He's still sitting there. "What are you doing on my seat?" I cross my arms and stare at him, teasing him. This 'boy', I can't believe he's grown on me.

Once I laid eyes on him, I smile on my own realizing that I'm not scared of him—or even the man. I amuse myself…and I suddenly have an idea. I pause the music,

"Hey." I say again and sit on his bed, facing Brahms the doll. "I want you to know that you can trust me, okay?" I look down at my hands, "I mean we've got—I have nowhere else to go and you allowing me to stay—I'm thankful for that. I get that you want me to follow your rules to take care of you. I'm okay with that. I'm so used to living on my own, pushing people away and following my own voice but, this? It's nice to have something I can depend on, something that tells me that I still have purpose."

"I won't go anywhere until I finish my job here. I'll be your keeper." I suddenly chuckle, "Probably forever since I don't have a real job." Too far, Julie. "I mean, cos, I…umm…but you get the point, right?" I ask as I stand from the bed, still looking at the doll and hoping that the man can hear me well.

"Do you understand?" I ask, looking at the boy intently. I'm hoping for a reply, even though it's been a long time since I heard him speak to me. I don't give up, "Just give me one 'okay' or 'shut up, julie' or something?"

Silence. Okay, I kinda went too far on that one.

"So, yeah." I go to the shelf and get my hands on the player.

I place my hand on top, "I'll shut up now and let you enjoy your music."

Suddenly, I hear that soft, faint voice. It certainly sounded like it came behind me.

"You're my keeper?"

It's that voice. How...?

I dont turn around and I close my eyes.

It's him, isn't it?

I gape and open my eyes at the realization that it just might be him, "Y-yes." I reply as quick as I could without stuttering and sounding doubtful. I want him to know that I'm sure of who I aim to be and that I understand him, "I'm your keeper." I say in a slight sweet tone.

He doesn't reply. I turn and I glance where the doll is still seated. The doll looks completely normal to me now. I stand in front of it, then squat down to look at it in the eye.

Maybe the cameras are inside the doll? And the mic, too?

Maybe one day, I'll find out all about it once I get a few more words out of him.

I actually just had a conversation...this time, with the guy. And he pretended to sound like...like...Brahms? _What is going on?_


	18. Chapter 18

So far, everything's good. The rules are still followed. It's been two days and I made sure I took the doll with me as well anywhere I went, and felt a little conscious when I thought about the possibility that the cameras are inside the doll. I didn't mind, though.

It's like...I wanted it to watch me, but then again, sometimes I get a little conscious because I know that he's not the doll. I know that there's someone else out there and I can't see him. Would've been better if I could see him. Maybe I'd be a little more comfortable. But then again, I tried convincing him by dropping hints talking to the Brahms doll and it's just not working.

I just hope I don't lose it and shout at the doll saying how much I wish he just showed himself and introduced himself like a proper human being so I can help him out.

The doll is resting in front of the table inside the study room. Another vinyl player is sitting next to it and I just let his favorite song play. I suddenly realize why I had to play the song loud as stated in the rules list. It's probably so the guy could hear it in the attic.

Were the rules printed out for me? or were it printed out a long, long time ago? If it were printed a long time ago, then the guy existed already?

I just wish he was here to tell me everything. Everything would have been easier. It's hard to ask and answer myself, you know. I shake my head and sit opposite to the doll. I can't take it anymore.

"You know," I start, trying to speak louder than the music playing, "I used to live with my stepdad and step sisters. But I grew tired of their..." I had the urge to watch my words, "...unpleasant attitudes and such. So I decided to leave since I don't have my mom anymore. It was like...me against them. I know they didn't like me anyway. Plus, they don't care about me. They only cared because they wanted my mom's stuff. They want me to sign her will, so they could ask me for her stuff. But I didn't. I just don't care anymore. So I left."

I pause, hesitating if I should keep talking. _What am I trying to achieve here?_

"And then I traveled here but only for a vacation. But something urged me to stay here and just work here, too. Then I came here." I look down at my hands, I can't look at the doll's eyes knowing that I'm looking at the camera. Would really feel better if I was talking to an actual person about this since I never confide like this. Don't even mind if it's some creepy stranger in the attic. "All I'm trying to say is..." How do I say this?

How do I say it without sounding too obvious that I know that the doll isn't alive?

"...I..." my eyes glance straight into the doll's eyes, "I know what it's like to feel alone. And I know that there's a reason why I found my way here. Now, I finally have something to cope with. So...you can trust me. Okay?"

Please speak up.

I feel my eyes water. I just...I just want company.

"Can I trust you?" My voice breaks a little. _Ah, fuck it._

"Just..." I shrug, "I just want you to realize that we've got each other. And you can tell me anything you need or want. I can help. Whatever it is you need, I'll try my best to provide."

Silence. I stare at the doll's eyes, hoping the camera's recording in there. But a tear escapes my eye and I look away, stand from the seat and head over to the window.

I sneer, "I don't even know if you can see or hear-or even understand a word I'm saying." It's like I'm blindly hoping for a miracle...for a familiar stranger's company.

And the loud music in the background somehow fades as I hear a voice again behind me. It overlaps the loud, classical, violin weeping, "I can see you, Julie."

I quickly turn around, hoping he's there. I approach the player and turn it off. I pause, "I know." I hear myself utter as I scan the whole place.

"But I just hope I can see you."

* * *

It's a wish. I never thought I'd wish for something like this. It's been a while since my last desperate wish, which was when my mother was struggling in her death bed.

I shake my head trying to get her off my mind. If I do, I'd end up tearing up again.

I just tucked Brahms in bed. We were kinda quiet and calm today. I chuckle a little by hearing myself mentally say "we."

My hands trace the ends of my book, pretending that I'm reading. Well, I am trying to, but my mind keeps wandering off. It always ends up with the little wish I said earlier this afternoon. Was it right? Was it too soon?

He probably knows I know since I told him.

What's bugging me is that I don't know what's gonna happen now. Did I push it too far? What if he's too pressured because I told him?

No, no. He doesn't know that I know that there's more than just the doll. I mean, I could have meant that I knew he could see me through the doll, right? Oh, God. What do I say?

I close the book and put it at the shelf near me, "Hey." I say, "I'm sorry if I wake you up, Brahms, but..." I put my knees close to my chest, "I hope you can hear me."

Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it. Fuck it if I'm desperate. I am. And I wanna help. That's all I want. Company and to help him.

"I'm sorry if this feels like I'm pressuring you or anything, but I just wanna be honest. See, that's what I want us to do. I want us to be honest with each other. Like I always say, we're both in this together. I'll help you. I'd be more than willing to. So you can trust me, okay?"

Just show me who you are. I need answers and I'm getting real impatient.

"I just don't get why you can't see that yet, you know?" I say casually, still in my seat, talking with a bit of exasperation in my tone. Because I really am. I'm somewhere between fed up and playing along. "I've been here for weeks, following the rules. I mean, don't you think I deserve a bit of explanation as to how and why I'm doing this? I volunteered. And the least you can do is explain. That's all I'm asking."

I wanna help too, okay, but mostly I just want answers, too.

"I want answers, Brahms." I sneer, "It's unfair. I'm..."I sneer again realizing, "I'm willing to stay here and play along. But I want to know the truth. I want to know why I have to do these things. Don't you think it's a little unfair too that you have to cover up while I freely...well not exactly but...freely do anything in this house?"

I sigh and try to calm myself a little before I get pissed for no reason. But I can't help but feel so sad. Melancholy swallows me whole as I realize that I'm desperately asking for his company.

"I just want to know if you're really there. And if you are, at least tell me. Bit by bit." I wipe the single tear from my cheek. I realize I'm lonely. And it's weak. I hate it. But I can't stop my lips from trembling. I'm close to sobbing but I stop myself. I drop my face in my hands, covering it with my knees, "At least as a friend."

I stop myself from crying. I can't lose it. I look up again and lean on my hand, sniffling. I calm down a bit. "I'll let you sleep now, okay?" I stand up, approach the doll and look down. I sit by the bedside and lean my head against the wall and slowly drift to sleep.


	19. Chapter 19

My eyes flutter open and I realize that I am sitting on the ground, a blanket over me. I look up, then to my right, and see the side of the bed. I stretch my body then turn and stand up, seeing the doll lying down on the bed. I look down at the blanket I'm holding now in my hand. He tucked me in.

I feel my mouth form into a smile, then I glance at the doll, "Good morning, Brahms." My eyes feel weird.

It always feels weird after crying. I rub my eyes then remember that I have to wake the doll up. I take it and carry it out of the room, then take it with me in the bathroom. I lay him on the wardrobe top as I brush my teeth.

I carry him downstairs and into the kitchen, still trying to completely wake myself up. I lay him on the dining chair and prepared the table for our breakfast session.

Breakfast was good, and I tried my best to avoid thinking about my frustrations.

"Ready for your piano lessons?" I ask with a light smile as I wash the dishes, glancing at the doll from time to time.

After the dishes, I carry the doll in my arms and head out of the kitchen. I walk through the hallway and make my way into the living room then suddenly pause, I stop, staring at the living room.

 _It's neat._

How? When?

I glance at the doll in my arms. "Did..." I lay him on the couch as I scan the living room, a little shocked about how neat the place is after having to walk by it looking like a mess. But now, it looks so neat. Almost like the first time I came in this house.

Some books are settled on what seems to be a coffee table, and no ripped pages laid on the floor. The couches stayed where they originally were, and the table runner neatly draped.

A loud ringing startles me which seems to be coming from an old telephone sitting on a table by the window. How come I never noticed that before? It keeps ringing until I finally realize that I'm awake and that I have to take the call, "Hello?"

I quickly look behind me and realize the doll's gone.

HOW IN HELL DID HE...

I hear heavy breathing, my heart suddenly starts beating fast, "H..Hello?" Could it be? "Did you...did you do this?"

"Yes, Julie." It's a child-like tone of voice, he's still playing it. I respond nonetheless, "Wow." I say under my breath, "Why?" I just _had_ to ask. The voice becomes a little raspy due to the poor reception of signal, probably. Then later on, it came clear, "I wanted you not to be sad anymore."

I couldn't help it. I smiled-no I grinned hard. Is he serious? I let out a chuckle, and next thing I know, I'm laughing. "Thank you..." I hesitate a little bit, "Brahms."

The voice sounds like it came from a boy. I know that it's supposed to be Brahms. But it's kinda hard to imagine now that I have a feeling that it isn't the doll exactly. But I'll keep playing along. "Thank you, Brahms." I repeat, but this time, I'm trying not to smile too much. "That's really sweet of you. I guess, we have more time for book reading now that I have nothing else to do?" I chuckle, and for the first time, he replies and it's as if I can almost hear the happiness in his voice, like a child ready to go outside and have fun, "Okay, Julie!"

I don't resist, "Brahms?" I don't hear a reply but I continue, "Where are you?"

There's silence. He isn't replying. Should I tell that I know? Am I really that desperate? Oh God, yes. I sigh. "Brahms...I..." he hangs up. I stare at the phone for a while, trying to figure out whatever that meant. Suddenly, I get startled by a faint laugh upstairs, I glance upstairs. He's not taking me seriously.

I really want to see him.

* * *

I step out of the shower, drying my hair with the towel. I hear a creak, as I'm staring at myself in the mirror. I stop what I'm doing. Should I go? Should I go and see? He trusts me by now, doesn't he?

I quickly wrap the towel around me and rush outside of the bathroom. I run to my room and see that nothing's been touched. That's not right-I heard him. I heard something in here.

Wow. He still doesn't trust me. "Brahms?" I call out, "Where are you?" I come inside his room and see the doll sitting on the bed, facing me. It's like he was expecting me. "Did you know I was going to take a look?"

I sound so desperate.

Slowly, I approach the doll, looking at it straight in the eye. I have my arms crossed against my chest, "Did you?" I shake my head in disbelief, "It's been two days, Brahms." I turn, fix my towel, motioning to leave the room. "It's been two days." I'm starting to get pissed.

"You haven't...done what you used to do." I glance at the doll, "Come on, Brahms. I just..."

I take deep breath, "I just wanna see you. Why can't you just show me? Is that part of the game? Because I-I'm not playing around anymore. Okay?" I heave another deep breath, as if talking my feelings out requires so much energy, "Show me how you do it." I challenge him.

My arms stayed against my chest, I bite on my lower lip. I can't believe he still won't do it. I wait for a few more seconds, and nothing's happening. I'm already getting mad and desperate.

I groan loud and storm out of the room. I head straight to mine, slam the door, and lock it.


	20. Chapter 20

I lock the door and pace the floor. I can't take it anymore. I don't want to play along, but I know I have to. I groan in exasperation, keep walking around, trying to calm myself down.

There's still helpless feeling inside of me, I feel like I just wanna fall down and whine. I feel so sad. I feel like I'm being treated like I'm stupid.

Finally, I give up my anger and approach the door. Should I go out and go to the doll?

Before I reach for the knob, I hear footsteps. Quietly, I kneel down near the door and sit on the floor, listening intently. It must be him. I sneer then shake my head, leaning against the door, no energy to come out and argue.

"So now you figured you'd come out."

I hear the footsteps come closer, then it stops near the door, "I'm sorry, Julie." It sounds like a young boy.

Now I'm starting to question if the doll's really possessed and the guy's just there to make sure he's getting taken care of. I tilt my head thinking about my new theory.

"Just please take care of me." the boy says, "And it'll all be all right."

I don't respond. I don't feel like it anymore. I'm exhausted. He doesn't leave. It's as if he knows I won't come out to see him, or that if I do, he'd be quick enough to hide again. Making me feel like a crazy woman.

"You don't have to be afraid."

There's silence. I don't respond at all, and I feel like he's waiting for me to do so. But I don't.

I know that if I go out, he won't even be there.

But...what if...

The footsteps slowly start walking away from the door.

"No..." I quickly scramble from the floor as I stand up on my feet, open the door, and run out to the hallway, "Wait!" I don't see anything, not even his shadow. "Please don't go yet. I just want to see you."

But he isn't there.

And then, I realize something.

"Okay." I sigh, "I understand if you don't really want to show yourself to me. I won't force you. But..." I wrap my arms around me, feeling cold again, "...I will give you a choice."

There's silence in the hallway. I turn around looking for him. I have a feeling that this guy is probably just a few years older than me or maybe a little younger, so that means I can settle this the adult way. That's if he's willing to go with what I'm about to propose.

"I'm gonna ask you for the last time," I take a deep breath, rehearsing what I'm about to say in my head and finally, "Quit playing around. I know that you know that you are completely different from...the doll."

I hear nothing, "I want to see you tomorrow night." Still nothing.

I keep talking, "Have dinner with me." I shrug, "No pressure. It'll just be me, I'm harmless, I don't know if you can tell. Just please, show me yourself tomorrow night, and I'll stop whining. I'll never bother you again. I'll keep playing along if you want me to, just show me yourself, let me talk to you. Just so...Just so I know I'm not crazy."

There's that desire in me that wants to know if I really am right about the guy living and hiding, or if the doll's alive. I just want proof. I want closure.

Or..some company. It must be really lonely for him to keep hiding in the dark.

"And if you don't...well...I don't really know." I look down, "I guess I'm gonna have to rethink things."

There's no response. Asking this stranger to dinner might sound crazy, but I don't think that even matters anymore.

"Just that one night. We'll talk, and that's it. Okay?"

I stare at my bare feet, "I'll go now and get dressed." I turn around and head back into my room. "Good talk." I say before I step inside. And inside my head, it's as if I could hear the voice say yes to me. But I realize he never said anything. It's just the sound of my footsteps in my room.

I'm just hoping for the best.

I don't exactly know why I blew up like that, but I don't care anymore.

I won't let him rot in the dark, while I enjoy the amenities of this mansion...alone. At least share it with the one who owns the doll, right? After all, it isn't mine. It's the least I can do.

Oh how convenient it would be to have someone around.

That's if...he does show up.

I glance at myself in the mirror. I see a reflection of a woman in a towel, still drenched in shower water. I laugh at myself as I re-imagine my little speech outside wearing just this. No wonder I never get taken seriously. I glance at my wardrobe and take a random shirt, then put it on like how I normally do it.

* * *

 **Well, well, well. What do you guys think?  
Is Brahms gonna show up? Or is he gonna ditch her?  
Imagine, imagine. ;)  
And tell me what you think about how things went!**


	21. Chapter 21

I descend the stairs and head over to the dining room. I take some sheets and runners from the drawers. The pile sits in my arms as I make my way outside the house. I reach the sad, quiet lawn of the Heelshire's house. I start setting up a round table in the middle of the gazeebo, along with two chairs, and lay the white sheet on the table. I drape a runner on top then place a candle at the middle.

My hand run along the top of the table, smoothing out the wrinkles, making sure everything looks nice.

The dinner's tonight. I wasn't nervous at all, but the moment I realize that I might get a chance to see him...I get butterflies. I'm not so sure if it's the good kind or the bad kind of butterflies.

But somehow, I feel okay. A smile creeps on my face, I feel okay. I'm okay. It's gonna be okay.

I look up from the lawn and to the top window of the house, supposedly my room. Something inside me tells me that someone's in there, but I can't really see anything. The window's locked and covering most of my vision of my room. All I see is a reflection of the outside. But I have a feeling that there's someone.

My attention is diverted to the loud crow who just passed by. I sigh and continue to make my way back in the house.

* * *

My fingertips run over the seams of my dress, "Finally gonna wear you, now." I smirk. Never thought I'd wear my favorite black dress for this reason. I have this weird sentimental mindset.

It's just that clothes are amazing. They help a person express themselves, and also help them disguise themselves and turn themselves into something they aren't. It's all about identity, and it's also a need.

I shake my head. I'm zoning out again.

I go inside the shower now then close my eyes as I allow myself to savor the warm water pouring over me.

Will he be there?

I shake my head again. _Stop._

 _He'll show himself. He'll show himself._

* * *

I pull all my hair in one hand and push them to one side as I stare at how the dress looks on me. The halter top fit my torso and hugs my curves, as well as the skirt. It's not too formal, not too casual.

I turn around and reach for the door, hoping he'd show himself. "Please." I mutter under my breath, my eyes closed.

* * *

I light the candles and straighten out the runner on the table. I glance down at my dress, making sure I'm okay.

Everything's okay.

Why am I so nervous? _Well, obviously, because I'm meeting up with a stranger._

 _Am I nervous, though? Or am I excited?_

I sit on the chair, waiting for him. It's almost 8pm. I left a note in Brahm's room with the words "meet me at eight at the gazebo" so that's enough details for the first date. Enough effort, too. All of this feels weird, but it also...it also feels so right to finally clear things up.

I glance at my silver wrist watch and see that it's 2 minutes to 8pm. I align the pasta-filled plates. I align the empty goblet glasses. I align the wine bottle next to the candles. Everything's good.

Damn, it's been a while since I've dated someone. I never thought my next date would be a blind date. Funny how I never thought I'd be in this position a few weeks ago.

Never thought my life would be this interesting.

* * *

It's 8:15 pm.

He's just probably getting the predate jitters. Like I am. But the difference is, I'm here, ready to take on whatever surprise is thrown at me. And he's probably hiding somewhere, probably in the attic or something.

I tell myself to be patient.

8:16 pm. I'm gonna be patient. I eye the wine bottle.

It's okay. He can take his time.

8:21 pm. I suddenly have the urge to look up the windows of the house. The lights are on. I kept them on so I could somehow see a silhouette of him walking down the stairs, and hopefully going over here. But there's no sign yet.

I become aware of the sound the crickets are producing around me. I realize how dark it is around us, except the gazebo, where our table is. I purchased some Christmas lights from the store earlier today with some of my little money just to spice things up. I allowed the lights to dangle above and around the table, just to make everything bright this late at night.

8:29 pm. I've opened the bottle of wine and drank a bit. I only filled 1/5 of my glass or so. Just to waste some time waiting for him.

I decide to stand up from the seat. My ass is aching. I chuckle. I walk away from the gazebo. It's dark out here, and it's cold. I suddenly feel one drop of water fall on my bare arm. I glance at my arm, then up the sky. Another drop falls on my face. It's starting to rain again.

My face falls in my hands and I sigh then laugh.

 _Did I really think he'd come?_

Whatever I asked for is clearly impossible. Did I really expect him to come over, reveal himself over dinner? Might as well show up with some flowers and chocolates then give me a peck on the cheek.

I laugh at my own stupidity. No, idiocy. Because I am a complete idiot.

I shake my head and turn around to go back to the gazebo to get my things and call it a night. But before I walk, I turn around and shout out to the universe, but really, at the house for him to hear "You could've said no!" I shake my head, "A rejection would have been better."

"Instead of you making me wait for shit." I say a little lower than my voice. My eyes are glued to the windows, and it suddenly focuses on my room window. I see a figure of a man.

It's him.

It has to be him.

That asshole.

He just watched me look like an idiot.

I blink once and realize he's gone. Oh he is definitely not going anywhere.


	22. Chapter 22

**Heya, just wanna say thank you for sticking around!  
These next few chappies are gonna be good.  
There's just one thing that bothers me: It's that I can't  
seem to VIEW the REVIEWS that you guys send. I guess  
I'm gonna have to wait for a few more days to read em.  
Anyhoo, enjoy the chapter! **

_**CRISTA**_

* * *

As if it's my unlucky day, all at once, the rain pours down before I make it inside the house. I run towards the door and run back inside, almost drenched in the rain. _It's okay_ , I tell myself mentally.

I glance around the place and it's empty. I glare upstairs, take my wet watch off and drop everything on the table in my hands and storm upstairs and into the hallway.

I stop myself from shouting his name or shouting at all. It would be immature and stupid. And probably will scare him. Once I reach the hallway, I pause for a second, staring at the huge painting.

So much for trusting someone.

I remember my stepfather. Another example of when I trusted someone and in the end get betrayed.

My stepfather used to care about my mother. Sometimes, me too. I actually liked him. I trusted him. When I met him, I didn't like him. But he talked to me so well, spent time with me and my mother, that he actually got my trust. I don't easily trust people. And I knew I should not have trusted him because he ended up being a complete asshole. That's when I stopped caring. That's when my mother started getting sick, too. This is why I don't trust anyone anymore, I always get let down.

But at the same time, that's what fascinates me. I easily trusted a stranger.

So much for expectations.

Maybe I get let down, too because I expected too much. I expected that he'd finally be the one to change our lives. Maybe he'd be the man my mother would count on. But he turned into a slob. He broke every promise he made when they got married. He gave up when I did. I expected so much from him as a new father. I expected that he would change mom and I in a good way. But he did change us, but for the worse.

And now, it's as if I never learned. I expected too much from this stranger.

I hate that I trusted him. I hate that I expected everything to go so well.

 _What is wrong with me?_

My hands clench, but I stop myself from being mad. There's no point. I realize I shouldn't rush to my room, cos he probably won't be there anyway. It's either he's inside the attic or somewhere else. I shake my head and walk to my room in disappointment.

Before I go inside my room I stop and turn around, "You could have at least told me you didn't want to do it." I sigh, trying to stop my voice from breaking. I realize I'm getting too emotional from my own stupidity, "I hope you didn't give me much hope."

Randomly allowing me to see himself and shit? That's somehow giving me hope. If he didn't really wanna show himself, he wouldn't do that. It just proves he's hesitating. I don't know why.

It's not like I'm a killer or something.

"I thought-" I stop. I look down at my bare feet, "I just hope you'd do this for me. As a friend."

"The least you can do is trust me, like I trust you."

Silence.

Okay then, I tell myself.

I turn around and enter my room. I stop, remembering that I forgot my stuff downstairs from getting too pissed. I forgot my watch and my shoes downstairs. I groan in exhaustion, disappointment, and exasperation as I walk out of my room.

There, I see a man standing. It's as if he was about take a step as well as I stepped out of my room.

I caught him in action.

And...he's standing just a few meters away from me.


	23. Chapter 23

**Hiya! I am so excited for these next few chapters.  
Let it all serve as a Christmas gift! Haha! As how Brahms and Julie  
have finally seen each other. Do you think they'll have a hard time  
dealing with this and he'll have to raise a hand on her or what?**

 **Let me knoooow! Oh, and Merry Christmas!**

 _ **CRISTA**_

* * *

I don't know if he decided to show himself, or if he coincidentally was about to follow me.

Whatever it is..."Hi." I managed to speak up, "It's you."

He's blinking behind that mask. He's just staring at me.

No answer. It's kind of weird to see him in front of me, not answering. So he really just stares at me. I wonder if this is what he does when I speak up too and he doesn't answer.

I stand there, gazing at him. I'm aware of silence slowly enveloping the hall, my heart pounding, his heavy breathing under that mask, and the soft pouring rain. I try to speak up but I can't. I would rather stare at him to steal a few seconds just to observe his wholeness but I urge myself to speak because I don't want to freak him out.

"Look, I don't know who you are. And why you're doing this." I gulp, "But I want you to know that I won't hurt you. So, you don't have to freak out."

He stays still, but his eyes...I can see his eyes through the holes in his heavy mask, it's staring back at me. I don't avoid eye contact. I couldn't. I wanted more time to look at him but he speaks, making me look down at the mask where his mouth should be. His voice is soft, trying to sound like a young boy, "Are you freaking out?" he emphasizes 'freaking out' the way I said it.

I gape at his question and quickly shake my head 'no', "No, I'm not." I sigh, "And it's okay...it's okay if _you are_." I nod once, "It's okay to be scared."

* * *

 _She knows my fear_ , Brahms says to himself in his head. _I fear Julie will run away like the others._

Brahms doesn't move but his clenched hand loosens the grip when Julie spoke sweetly. It calmed him down. Her tone, her voice, it reassured him that everything was fine.

"...let's just talk." She shrugs, almost shuddering in the cold temperature of the hall.

* * *

Okay. How do I do this? Umm...

"I-"

"Are you cold?' He suddenly speaks up again in that small boy voice.

Why does he do that? "I'm-yes, a little. But I'm fine." I realize that I'm still drenched in rain water. I shake my head, "I'm okay, you don't have to worry. What I want right now is to be able to talk to you, if that's possible. But I mean, you're here already, anyway, so I don't see the point of not...talking."

He's just staring at me. "That's if...you'll talk to me in a normal way."

He's quiet. "Not that I'm saying you're not normal." His eyes look away from me, and downstairs. Okay shut the fuck up, Julie. Shut it. He's looking at you weirdly.

"Brahms." I say once again and I notice the guy glance right back at me, "I just wanna talk...about Brahms. So..."

"What do you want, Julie?" he finally says, wonder in his voice. He sounds so much like a little boy.

I start to rub my arms, feeling cold already, trying not to shiver.

His head tilts a bit. "I have so many questions and one of them is: Why? Why the doll? Why do I have to take care of the boy doll?" I notice that he does not feel like answering. I say something before he does again, "You can trust me. I'll try my best to understand. Just trust me."

The guy starts to slowly walk towards me. I don't know what to do. I watch him and he passes right beside me, I am kept standing still. I follow him with my eyes, I turn around and notice that he stands next to the door pane of Brahms' room. He slowly pushes the door open revealing the doll sitting on the bed facing us outside. He lifts his hand and points at the doll.

"That's...that's the doll. Yes." I nod, "That's Brahms."

He slowly points his finger at himself, not looking away from me, "Brahms." he starts, "I am Brahms."

I feel blood drench down my face. I feel my whole body heat up. I stiffen.

 _I am Brahms._

It can't be. Yet...it makes sense _. OH MY FUCKING G-IT MAKES FUCKING SENSE._

All this time the _real_ Brahms was here? And he was watching me?! But why? And how? Why would he? Is there something wrong? I mentally slap myself, clearly he has issues. HE IS WEARING A MASK FOR GODSAKES.

"Y-" I stutter but make sure I don't look scared, "You're the real Brahms?"

He slowly nods at me.

"Wow." I suddenly say. Okay wrong word.

"Are you scared?" he asks in a sweet, boyish voice.

"What?"

His voice changes this time. It's a little...grown up. "Are you scared?" He notices I zoned out a bit.

Actually... "No." I say in an as-a-matter-of-factly tone.

I can't see his face, but somehow I can tell he did not expect that one.

"I'm not scared of you."


	24. Chapter 24

Brahms slowly puts his hand down. I look up at him and slowly approach him, without breaking eye contact. "You mean to tell me that you are the boy from the painting? You're a Heelshire?"

He nods slowly, looking right back at me. A loud thunder roars, and its lightning flashes through the window. I still don't break eye contact. I squint my eyes, "Where did you come from?"

He doesn't reply. This is gonna take a while.

"Okay." I nod and turn around, rubbing my arms, realizing how freakin' cold it is. But I shake my head. I need answers, I can't give up and just say I'm going to take a warm shower. Ugh okay stop thinking about warm showers.

"Where did you come from? When I came in here the first day, you weren't around. No one else was in here. I shouted and waited. Unless...you were hiding?"

The guy-I mean-Brahms watches me pace the floor not too far from him. He just watches me as I try to figure everything out before asking him again, "In the rules, I'm not allowed to go up the attic. Is that where you live?"

He shakes his head 'no.'

Huh. Weird.

"Well, where?" I could not wait anymore, "And how do you see me? How can you watch what I do? How do you know that I do the right thing to the boy?" I shake my head, "The doll, I mean. Does it..." I get inside the room and stand in front of the doll, "Does it have cameras inside?" I turn to see Brahms slowly enter the room. Supposedly his room. The real room of the real Brahms. _Oh God._

"There are no cameras inside, Julie." Okay, I have to admit it's a little weird when I hear a young boy's voice coming from a tall, grown man. But...I don't know. I shrug it off mentally...especially the part where he looks really...really...grown. Chest hair is visible from his white, dirty shirt, and his cardigan is recklessly draped over him. His chest is almost overexposed. He's sweating, like I am except it's not obvious because I'm drenched in cold rain water. I shake my head. _Focus, Julie._

"Then, how?" I eye the figurines on the shelves at the other side of the bed. I walk all the way to the vinyl player, "Is it hidden somewhere in here?" I turn around and face him.

Brahms, the real Brahms, slowly walks over to me. "Why do you want to know?"

"Because I deserve to know." I shrug, "I just think that since you welcomed me in here, I should return the favor of letting you trust me. And I want to trust you, to keep doing whatever favor it is you need me to do, as long as you tell me everything. It's very important that you let me understand, Brahms."

Silence.

"I have eyes on every wall."

On every what?

"Wall?" I repeat, "You're telling me you can see me through the wall?"

He doesn't respond to that. He's probably trying to gather all the strength he has to say all this just as I am. But I think I'm gonna need lots and lots and lots of strength to let this all sink in because it's definitely not what I expected it to be.

I mean, the guy turned out to be _the actual Brahms_? Plus, he admitted that he spies on me? Through freakin' walls? He's probably really seen me naked. So I wasn't really paranoid. I actually felt eyes on me. Although...I was a little confident but...oh my God. Stop it, Julie. Oh my gosh.

"Okay, okay." I slowly sit on the bed, trying to calm myself down as well. I hold on the the bed post, "Okay. Just-give me a second to take this all in, okay?"

I glance at him and think that he's probably thinking of how weird I am right now. Miss tell-me-everything-i-can-handle-shit is slowly withering and shaking after it all sunk into her brain. It's true. I'm kinda freakin out. But the thing is, it's not a bad freak out.

It's not even about being shocked about it, but I feel...I feel... _excited. Ecstatic. Interested. Curious. And most of all, worried about him._

I look at Brahms, "How long have you been watching me?" I ask, "How long have you known that I was here?"

He stares at me. "Go on, don't be afraid to tell me."

It takes him a little time. "When you first came here, Julie."

"Okay."

"Are you afraid of me, Julie?"

Why does he keep asking? What reason do I have even to be afraid of him? It's not like he's a killer? He's just a guy who needs to be taken care of immediately. Completely harmless.

"No, Brahms." I pause, "I can call you Brahms, right?"

Plus I don't get why he still have to act like a kid. Should I treat him like a...kid?

I feel a little awkward talking to him while he keeps his distance from me. I won't hurt him anyway. I don't know what he's afraid of. While I'm here, I wanna be his company. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now, but my main goal right now is to find answers. Then, I decide what the hell I'm going to do.

He nods his head slowly, and I know he's staring at me while I try not to stare at him. I don't want him to think that I'm so freaked out. I don't want him to be scared and to feel uncomfortable in his own house.


	25. Chapter 25

I need to get my shit straight and have to get answers. But I can't just ask him why he acts like a kid? What if it's his coping mechanism? Oh God, I sure wish I knew how to deal with this right now. I feel so stuck. I don't know what to say.

"Alright, I just want you to know that I am slowly trying to take this all in. But you should also know that it's okay. You're not freaking me out. It's just things like these does not usually happen, and I just usually get this kind of thrilling emotions pump through my veins when I watch my favorite horror movies," I managed to chuckle and then stop when I see that he's not amused by any of this as well. I clear my throat, "But yeah, it's okay. Just give me a second to take it all in."

There is silence in the room.

"How long have you coped with the..." I tilt my head a bit, "doll?"

He doesn't answer. That'll take some time, then.

"Okay how about this?" I sigh, "I will ask you questions, and if there are questions you are not ready to answer yet, you don't have to say anything. But...you have to promise me that if I ask a certain question that you have an answer to, and you have to be honest about it, you have to tell me. If it's an answer to a really easy question. Like, 'how old are you' and stuff like that. So if you have a gut feeling to answer something, say something. But if you really can't, you don't have to." I nod once, "Okay?"

He's a little late, but he nods once. I'm just glad this is working. I guess I kinda have to treat him like a teenage boy. I sure hope he is a teen somewhere in there...and just hit puberty _really_ early.

"So, Brahms?" I start, "Where are your parents?"

I stand up from the bed quickly when I realize I might drench it with water from my clothes.

"Dead." he says faintly but with sureness in his voice, "They left me. Now they're dead."

I'm not quite sure I am getting the context of that. I should probably not push any further. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

No response. "You don't have any other family? Like uncles? Or maybe a babysitter before me?"

"They left." he said again.

Oh, God. Don't tell me they all gave up on him.

I suddenly feel bad for him.

"When?"

"Long time ago."

Should I ask why?

"How did you manage to survive alone, here?"

"I wait. I was alone, but I waited. And Julie came by to care for me."

Yes, he refers to the doll as himself.

"How long did you have to wait?"

He doesn't reply. Probably a long, long time.

"How old are you?"

Takes him some time. "Twenty nine."

I feel embarrassment. He's...in his late twenties...damn. I feel a weird gut feeling. It's not that I find it weird, but it's all sort of emotions draining down to my stomach, making me feel things.

He's 29 years old and his coping mechanism is to become a young boy. I still don't get why. But for now, I guess this is all the information I have to take in. It's too much for him to say, and too much for me to take tonight.

I look at the doll.

I glance at him and see that we're just a few steps away from each other. For some reason, I wanna get a closer look. But I also want to keep my distance. I glance at the doll, and I feel him glance at it, too. I pause then look back at him. He's still looking at the doll.

"Brahms?" I speak up and he looks at me,

He doesn't say a word.

"Do you still need me to attend to the doll?" I mean now that I know that it's not the doll who needs care, he should probably agree. "I guess this means we can put the doll aside now, huh?" He snaps his head at me as if he did not like what I said.

"Follow the rules." He says, "You must always follow the rules." I hear his tone get a little higher.

Okay, maybe I should deal with that soon, but not now.

"Okay, Okay" My hands are raised, trying to calm him down, and I nod at him gently. "I'll keep following the rules. All I'm saying is...maybe I don't have to babysit the doll?"

He gets what I'm saying, right?

Brahms doesn't say anything again.

"Are you getting rid-" I knew he was thinking about that, I quickly interrupt him,

"I am just saying..." I emphasize the word 'just', making sure he hears me out, "Maybe it would be better if it would be you that I'll take care of."


	26. Chapter 26

My new theory here is that he's had this coping mechanism going on since his parents left and died. That's the story I'm gonna hold onto for now. At the mean time, my current goal is to take care of him...if he allows me.

For the first time, I have prepared a big meal for two people. I carefully twirl the pasta around a serving fork and put it down the elongated platter. I pour white sauce all over it and garnish it with some rosemary. I'm just glad that I've managed to do the groceries today without it being such an issue.

He stared at me before I reached for the knob. I stared back and smiled warmly before telling him that I'll be back. He did not say anything and let me leave the house. I took my time in the grocery store. Mostly because I was trying to figure out whether to buy pasta or meat. I had no idea what to cook for someone who have not been eating a proper meal for the past few days. After contemplating, frustrated, I bought pounds of meat and a few pasta and pasta sauce. On the way back, I bought some pastries in case he wanted some. I was unsure of what he preferred to eat and wanted to make sure that he had enough choices. The thought of Brahms' satisfaction somehow satisfies me as well. His convenience makes me think as if I am doing something right.

When I arrived home, he was nowhere to be found...and still is.

I place the platter on the table beside the roast beef. I glance at the plates and feel a little bit more confident.

"Brahms?" I shout, "Dinner's ready."

I stand beside my chair, waiting for him. Seconds later, I get a little impatient and walk through the hallway and start to wonder where in the world Brahms have gone off to.

What if he can't hear me? What if he's in the house where he stays? Wherever that is. It must be somewhere far that's why it's taking him so long. I scan the room for any kind of movement, but I walk back in the dining room and suddenly find a figure sitting at the dining area.

"-Oh," Damn he almost gave me a heart attack. "Hey, glad you're here. I was looking for you-" I pointed behind me and realize that his hand is on the table, while the other is holding a fork. "Well, go on." I say nicely as I approach the table slowly, watching him at the same time. I don't want to freak him out. I move gently, gesturing that I'm about to pull my seat and sit next to him. "Oh yeah," I mutter as I go to the counter instead and place a glass of water and juice near his plate. Then I take my glass of water and lean against the counter close to his seat,

"I cooked them myself." I say proudly. Brahms is just looking at me.

We're both quiet for a few seconds. It's not awkward, but unnerving because I really want him to feel comfortable. I wish he would take off his mask. "Go ahead."

He looks at his plate, twirls pasta around his fork but does not lift it to his mouth. I hear him breathing under that seemingly-heavy mask as he looks up at me.

"Oh." I pause, "Oh shit. Yeah." I take my glass of juice with me and leave the room. "Just tell me what you think."

I head into the kitchen and lean against the wall. I shut my eyes and cringe at myself. God.

"Umm, brahms?" I shout across the room as I sit on the counter, a glass in hand. "I hope you haven't forgotten, we still have to discuss a lot of things."

I hear faint sounds coming from the dining area and think that he's probably chomping on the meal. I smile a little imagining him eating well and a lot. "I mean we can discuss that later. Not now."

I almost finish my drink. "I hope the beef tastes alright? It's my first time roasting beef on a pan." I chuckle. No response. I guess silence in the dining area is a good sign? I start to just imagine Brahms enjoying the full platter of pasta as I refill my glass.

* * *

"I'm coming in now, okay?"

I walk inside the dining area and find him looking back at me. The mask is still on his face as if it was never taken off. His plate is wiped clean, even the platter of pasta. There are a few slices of beef left on the other platter. This sight makes me smile. No, it makes me grin. I realize I'm grinning, eyeing the table, then I look at him. "Did you like it?"

He nodded. This makes me chuckle.

I approached the table excitedly and I notice him flinch a little bit. This reminds me to move a little more gentle. I am so used to moving around too wide and too much, but in this case, I have to learn to move a little more careful. Like what my mother used to tell me.

"You finished the pasta." I stated. "I'm glad you got to eat a lot."

I stare at him with a warm smile as he looks down at his plate. I start to take the empty plates. "I'll just clean this up." I take them in my hands and turn to head into the kitchen with a grin.


	27. Chapter 27

**Hello, The Boy Fanfic readers!  
Just want to apologize for a long-ass delay. But I am officially back.**  
 **Sorry it took me a while, like the usual, I'm trying not to rush the story**  
 **so it would flow naturally. I don't want to end up offering you guys a shitty**  
 **fanfiction-so that's why it's taking me some time.**

 **But here is the new update!**  
 **This...is just...the beginning of everything.**

 _ **C. A.**_

* * *

I enter the room and find him for the first time just standing there, his back facing me. I observe his whole body, his shoulders, his shape. He's probably just a two inches or so taller than I am-but he seems so towering compared to me.

He slowly turns to face me, allowing me to see his porcelain mask. I wonder what he looks like under that heavy mask.

Before I could even stop myself, I ask, "Why do you wear that mask?"

Brahms does not answer. I did not expect him to, anyway. It's just a staring contest for the past five seconds-and it was a long five seconds. I shake my head and clear my throat, "You can go ahead upstairs. I'll clean up."

One day, maybe if I can get him to trust me, I'll get the answers I need. But for now, all I have to cope with is the silence.

"Good night."

He doesn't turn away. I slowly turn around but he calls my name. I glance at him, in the same stance. Brahms doesn't say anything, while we stand there in a few seconds of silence. I'm trying to make out what he wants. I see him glance at his bed.

Oh shit. Right. That.

"You're going to bed, right?" I ask him, trying to validate if what he wants is what I had in mind.

"Do you wanna sleep here tonight?"

He doesn't answer but he steps to his right and I suddenly realize that the doll's been sitting on the chair behind him. Brahms looks at me again.

I thought he would agree that we'd get rid of the doll. I guess not tonight. Not now.

"Okay." I say and approach the doll. As I approach it closer, he steps away, as if watching us both like he always does from the walls. I suddenly have the urge to ask him again but I let it go for now.

I lay the doll on the bed, under the covers, and kiss it good night. I glance at Brahms, still standing and watching. "What about you?" the question slips out of my tongue.

Brahms walks out of the room without a word. I'm still standing here, thinking if I should follow or not.

Finally, I got myself to walk out of the room, but was too late. He's gone in the hallway. He's nowhere to be found again.

It's as if he's a ghost, watching over this doll.

When will I ever get to take care of the real Brahms instead of this lifeless doll?

* * *

Breakfast time, and he isn't here. It's been days since we've done the same routine.

He'd appear once in a while.

I have to say I'm disappointed. I actually thought he would start to come out of his shell and be more interactive. I snicker, thinking that I'm being ridiculous. But that thought would have been so nice. I doubt myself. Am I not trustworthy enough?

Last night was the same as all the others. He would appear before bedtime just to watch me and the doll closely, and I'd kiss the doll good night like the usual. It's a routine. A routine I want to break.

Since I found out the doll was basically a representation of him, I'd rather put it somewhere safe. But turn to Brahms and take care of him instead. It's a practical move, I tell myself. And it's true.

If he's here anyway all the time to watch, why can't he just _be_ what he hopes to be?

If I'm expected to babysit the Brahms doll, why won't I just do it to the real Brahms?

So many questions, I shut my eyes and lean my head on the dining table. I rest my eyes for a while, realizing that I'm tired. I've done so much today. I had to do the doll's laundry, ran to the grocery store, dusted the rooms, and cooked food for three.

I keep my eyes close, almost drifting to sleep until-

"Julie."

My eyes open wide and I jolt up from the table, knocking the cup of coffee on the table. I look around and I don't see anyone. Even unconsciously, he's in my head. I see the coffee spilled all over me. I need to take a shower.

* * *

I allow the water to freely shower over my back, my eyes closed, just completely enjoying the feeling of relief. It's as if I don't want to get out of the shower anymore. I realize I've been in here for a few minutes, but I don't let it bother me. I rub my arms gently, enjoying the water over me.

I lean against the wall, rinsing off the remaining soap on my body then finally turn the knob around. My arms reach out, copping for my towel.

 _Shit._ Spur of the moment.

I was so focused on taking a shower when that coffee spilled on me, I forgot my fucking towel. I pull the shower curtain away and step out. Looks like I'm gonna have to run off quick into my room.

No worries. It's not like there's a man in the house that's-awkwardly enough-not talking to me, and if he sees me naked, it's not like it's gonna make things awkward enough!

I stare at my reflection in the mirror. Stupid me. Stupid me. Stupid me. I take a deep breath. I open the door a little just to peek if the coast is clear. Luckily, it always is. I take one more deep breath. I scan the whole bathroom again just to figure out if there's really not one towel in the room. Then I see my dry, dirty clothes on the floor.

"Wait a sec," I say to myself. Perfect. I'll just wear that. I laugh at my short-timed stupidity and grab my clothes on the floor. Before I could put them on again there's a rapping on the door and it almost makes me jump in surprise. I completely forgot to close the door again, leaving it open a crack earlier when I peeked-the hard knocking pushes the door open and reveals a ragged Brahms standing.

I automatically cover myself with my clothes-"Oh God-Brahms!"

We both stare at each other. He's looking intently at me. I feel so naked. I feel...weird.

"Umm...what is it you wanted?" I asked trying to hide my surprise, hoping that his child-like coping mechanism syncs with the way he thinks and that is to innocently not picture me naked. Or...

"You were supposed to take me to bed." His voice sounded a little lower, lower than the voice he usually makes to sound like a child. I feel tingly. I feel weird even more. I can't tell why or what or whatever.

"Right," I say, "I'll get back to you on that one. I'll just...put some clothes on, okay?"

He turns his head to the side, pauses, Says "Okay" in a more different tone than before, then leaves.

I sigh in utter relief and run to the door, slowly closing it. I lean my back against it, still clutching my dirty laundry against my chest and hips. I feel my toes and hands clench. I realize I'm staring on the floor. I shake my head and start getting dressed.


	28. Chapter 28

I enter his room. He's standing right in front of the doll.

"Hey." I try to push off the image of me standing naked in front of him earlier. I try to act natural, as if nothing happened.

Suddenly, I have the urge to ask him something I've been wondering about. It just slips out of my mouth.

"Do you wanna sleep here?"

Brahms slowly turns to look at me. "I mean...you know you can. This _is_ your room, anyway."

I don't know why I have so much guts tonight. It might be adrenaline rush or me being nervous that's making me say things but...

He looks at me and nods once.

He wants me to put him to bed. The child-like coping mechanism's still there. Might as well do so. That's my job here, anyway. No time to hesitate, I tell myself and just approach his bedside and take the covers. "Come, now." I say, doing what I'm supposed to, acting a role I'm expected of.

This is it. We're taking a step by step move. It's been days since he's been watching me care for that doll. It's about time we ditch the doll?

Brahms slowly approaches the opposite side of the bed, still looking at me in the eye. It's like he's watching me watch him. I wonder what goes on in his head. Is he cautious? Is he doubtful? Is he scared of me?

I wait for him until he finally lays on the bed. For the first time, he breaks eye contact. I kinda feel a little relieved. I slowly put the covers over him carefully.

This is the first time I've gotten so much closer to him.

I feel my heart pounding so much but I manage to not act like I'm nervous. I don't want him to freak out because I'm freaking out. _I'm not. I'm not freaking out._

"Good night." I say again with a little pause. Out of nowhere, I remember the last rule when taking the doll to bed. I question myself if I'm still supposed to follow that.

"I-if you need anything...I'll be at the other room." I say quietly, still staring down at this man lying on the bed. I glance at his mask and slowly look away. I turn around and out of nowhere, he grips my wrist. For the first time, I feel his warmth on my skin. He grasps my wrist tightly making me glance right back at him. The eye contact is back-and it's intense. I feel the tension. I feel the heat between us. Some kind of energy. We're staring at each other.

"Kiss." he says. Fuck.

This is it. I knew this was going to happen.

I...Should I...

My whole body is shivering, but I feel myself following my mind...no...my heart...it's beating fast. I slowly and gently try to release myself from his grip as I turn to face him, still lying there, staring back at me. He loosens his grip which allows me to lay my palm on his wrist, almost gesturing him to put it down on the bed-telling him to relax. I'm doing all this as I lean down. My eyes unable to break eye contact.

I'm screaming at myself inside my head right now. _What am I doing? Why does this feel okay? What the hell. Who the hell says this isn't right? Why does it matter if there's just two of you, alone, in the universe. Am I under a spell or something?_

Brahms watches me watch him as I lean closer. I hesitate a little, not knowing where I'm supposed to plant the kiss. But I go in for the lips of the mask. I close my eyes and peck the mask lightly. I pause.

This is strange...but good. There's something mysterious about him that I can't help but...love. Whatever this is I'm doing...I love it. I feel like I'm finally doing something strange, something new, something different-and no one out there will judge me. It's just us.

I kiss the mask again. But this time, my eyes are open and I realize he's looking at me, still, not moving. It's as if he's surprised of what I'm doing.

 _Fuck. What the fuck am I doing?!_

I stand back quick and cover my mouth. Brahms sits up quick, "Brahms. I'm sorry-I'm sorry if I scared you." I completely forgot about the possibility that Brahms has a mind of a child. I'M MAKING OUT WITH A CHILD.

I shake my head, "I'm so sorry. Please don't be scared." I turn away from him, desperate to hide the redness of my face and my embarrassment.

"I'm so sorry."

"Julie." His voice is soft...but it sounds more mature.

I look at him. "Brahms." I cross my arms on my chest, "Go to bed, okay?" I slowly walk away and leave the room fast. Jesus, what did I do.

* * *

She kissed me.

Julie kissed me. It felt so wonderful. I could hear her breath on my mask, I could feel the weight, too. She pulled away and just when I was going to pull her, she kissed me again.

She kissed me two times. She kissed me twice. Julie kissed me twice.

I can't stop staring at her lips. She looks beautiful even when sleeping. Her lips look beautiful when parted. Her lips feel wonderful. I wonder how it tastes...how it feels on my lips. I put my fingertips on my lips, still watching her.

Julie will wake up. When she does, she'll kiss me again.

But she said sorry. She was scared. But I will make her kiss me again.

I need her lips.

I need her breath.

I need Julie's lips on mine.

Julie moves partially on the bed. Her tongue licks her lower lip. My eyes have been darted on her for an hour now. Time must move faster. I need to see her awake, lively, so I can watch as she speaks to me with those luscious lips.

I need it. I need her.


	29. Chapter 29

My eyes flutter open, and I see my door open. I look for my phone under my pillow to look at the time. My phone reminds me to charge it but I ignore it and put it back under my pillow. 7 AM, and I'm up already.

The image hits me. I lay in bed for a little longer, pondering on what I just did last night. I land my palm on my face and cringe at myself. Why did I even do that? _Damn it, Julie. He may look like a thirty year old man but he still has a heart of a child. You can't go kissing around people. YOU CAN'T GO KISSING AROUND PEOPLE'S MASKS._

I sit up and put my face in my hands.

I wonder what he thought? Does he have any idea at all? Or is he puzzled? Do I even ask him about it? Oh, God. _He's not like most boys, Julie. Stop being stupid._

"Okay..." I try to calm myself and head my way to the hallway. I observe if he's somewhere in the hall, I stay quiet, waiting for footsteps or any kind of sound that might come from him. But the house is dead quiet.

For some reason...I need to see him. I'm nervous because of what I've done but...I want to see him at least.

"Brahms?" I shout across the hallway, hoping he'd appear somewhere. I enter his room, he's not there. I was kinda hoping he'd be, though. For once maybe he'd sleep like a normal human being and still be in bed like the lazy fudge I am. I look at the doll, still placed on the chair inside his room. I look at it long enough to remember that maybe it's time to put it away. I carry it in my arms.

"Brahms?" I shout from his room and walk out. I head to the end of the hallway and open a huge, empty glass cabinet. I make the doll sit up inside, fix its clothes, and shut the glass door.

I descend the stairs, walk around and finally spot him near the bookshelves. He's reading.

 _Well, this is new._

"Hey." I say, he's still looking at the book, ignoring me. But then, he looks right at me, closes it and holds it out, gesturing for me to take it. I approach him slowly, not breaking eye contact. I crack a warm smile before glancing down at the book in his hand. _It's my book._

I take it and examine the book itself. It looks different. It's dusty and the pages are a little crisp. I realize it isn't mine. "You have one, too?" I ask, and he nods right away. "Do you like it?"

He doesn't respond. I sigh in disbelief. "You know you could at least tell me a little something. I'm just saying...I've been here for a really long time and not getting to talk to anyone really is boring the hell out of me." I roll my eyes and lowkey turn away from him with a bitch face. I place the book on an end table,

"I finished it long ago." His hoarse voice sends goosebumps straight down my whole body and stops me from walking away. I look at him slowly, "Oh."

"So when I read you the story, you knew it already?"

"Yes."

I nod, looking at my feet. Then I look at him. "Did you...like my story telling?" I joked.

He just looked at me. Now I wish I never pushed him to talk to me. I feel stupid.

"It was quite decent." He suddenly says.

"Decent?" I chuckle, "Thanks, anyway."

We both stay quiet. This is probably the longest conversation we've ever had...plus he sounds...masculine for some weird reason.

"I didn't know you read?" He doesn't respond, "I mean...I didn't know you liked reading."

Brahms turns away and looks like he's about to leave me hanging. "Brahms, wait." He looks at me.

"I put the doll inside the glass cabinet." Here we go. "But I want you to know that this doesn't mean anything negative." He's silent and not throwing a fit. I guess it's a good sign?

"I just thought that it's about time that we put the doll aside, you know, somewhere safe. So there's space for me to take care of something else." I play with my fingers, realizing I look too unsure and nervous. I stop and look straight at him, at least letting him feel that I know what I'm doing.

Authority might at least get him to agree with me since he still has a child-like mind.

"And that's...you." I try to stop myself from talking but I can't anymore, "And you don't have to worry. I'll still do the rules you want me to. I'll do all of that. The only difference is..I'll do it with you."

Silence. Just a little more push.

"Do you hear me?"

He nods.

"Do you understand me?"

He nods again.

"Do you want some breakfast?"

Brahms' eyes seem like they're lit up. I don't know if he's smiling or what under that mask but I'm just happy. I'm stuck in the moment right now. I feel good with the fact that I got to have a conversation with him. This should be good.


	30. Chapter 30

I re-enter the dining room and his plate's clean. He has the mask on. "Did you like the meal?" I ask with a warm smile. He nods once. "That's good. I'll just clean this up. I'll meet you in a little while for the piano lessons."

My hands reach for his plate as I stand close to him. I feel that energy again. The tension I felt when I kissed him that night. I can't help but steal a glance at him when I take his plate. I could hear him breathing heavy.

I smile a little as I finally have the plate in my hands, I look away and leave.

Finally inside the kitchen, I place the plate in the sink and lean on the counter. I sigh. _What am I on?_

Days ago I'm concerned about some kid and now I find myself feeling things for a man-child. What the hell is wrong with me? I shake my head, telling myself that I can't take advantage of the situation. It's stupid. It's stupid. And strange.

I stop what I'm doing and walk to the arch of the kitchen, trying to peek at Brahms who's already sitting in front of the piano. I see his features. His shoulders slumped, like man relaxed in his own room. He's looking at the piece on the piano. Brahms lays a finger on one of the keys but he doesn't press it. I quickly head back to the sink to finish my duties.

* * *

"Did you try to learn anything while I'm gone?" I say as I approach Brahms in front of the piano. He doesn't reply.

Should I even sit beside him. It would probably be weird. I feel like I've been trying to get close to him all fucking day. I need to calm down. But I can't help it. My mind tells me to stay and keep a distance, but there's a part inside me that says I should sit beside him. _It's just a piano lesson?_

I walk closer to him and before I could sit beside him, he starts playing. I stay still.

He's playing the piano. His hands caressing the ivory keys, as if he's done this a million times. The melody sounds beautiful. It sounds both sad and soothing. After what seems to be a verse, the chorus comes in. It sounds familiar.

I can't help but smile. It's what I was supposed to teach him..err...the doll Brahms. He kept playing. I close my eyes, enjoying the melody. I feel ecstatic. I feel my heart pounding. I've never felt so relieved in this house with a man I've never met before.

He finishes the chorus. My eyes are still closed, my lips curved into a smile.

"I learned that from you." He says with such a calm, mature voice. I open my eyes.

"I was never that good to teach you anything. Yet you played it so well." I respond warmly, "That was beautiful, Brahms."

He turns his head a little at my direction without looking straight at me. Then, he looks away and scoots a little over to his right on the chair. "You should teach me now."

"Oh." I snap out of my own thoughts, "Right. Okay." I slowly approach him. I look at the chair he's sitting on.

I should probably sit beside him. It wouldn't mean anything, right?

I sit beside him. The tension grew stronger. I feel it in my whole body. It's as if my body knows how close his body is next to mine without even seeing it. It's some kind of energy. "Let's begin." I manage to speak out and begin the lesson.


	31. Chapter 31

The house feels shrouded in dust. It seems I need to do some cleaning since I've been wheezing for the past few days, and hearing Brahms' _adorable_ sneeze from a distance is enough to push me to reach for the duster. I start with the the shelves in the living room and wipe the books one by one. I see Brahms appear from my peripheral vision making me turn to look at the guy staring at me, "Hey" I smile at him,

Brahms scans the living room, keeps his eyes on the shelves I have already wiped and tidied up. "I put them all back where I found them, don't worry," I smirk, "But it's gonna take me a while to finish. Also," I continue wiping the book in my hand, "You should probably stay somewhere else if you don't wanna get sick."

"Get sick," I hear him say making me look glance at him again. I can feel he's trying so hard not to talk like a little boy like how he was used to. I can tell he's reading me as I read him,

"Yes, sick. Like get coughs or the sneezing because it's been a while since I cleaned the whole place. And you don't want that."

Brahms walks closer to me, "The molds," he says,

My eyebrows furrow, "Molds?"

"The molds are the cause of allergies," he says and pulls a flat book from the shelf in front of me. I feel his arm brush against mine for a split second, then he hands the book over to me. It's a medical book about medications and allergies. My eyes squint at the book, then at Brahms. _He read this?_

"It is imprinted on the book."

"Oh." I flip the book open and scan the table of contents, locate the dust allergy chapter and find that mister quiet here actually know what the heck he's talking about and has knowledge from the books in this house. And I thought these were left to rot. I glance at Brahms who is halfway out of the room, "You read a lot of these? That's amazing." Brahms stops walking, glances at me for a second, then leaves.

I bring the book with me and follow Brahms out of the room. Now that he's voluntarily speaking to me, might as well take advantage of the moment. "So you really read the books in the house, huh?" I try to keep up with him.

He notices me catching up and he stops walking in the hallway.

He turns his head to me and nods once.

"You like reading?"

He stares at me.

"I'll make sure I read a lot about the allergy thing to prevent it from happening to us."

He nods.

He can't stop talking to me now. This can't happen.

"Do you wanna help me clean?" I ask all of a sudden. Real smooth, Julie.

He stares at me for a long time. I hold the duster up and flash a grin, "You get to do the dusting!"

The hallway is quiet and I try not to laugh at the situation we're both in. I try to read his eyes at least through his porcelain mask, but I can't. It's difficult. But I feel something, though. Some kind of energy between us.

I nod at him once and slowly hand him the duster. He flinches a little, I notice it, and I know he noticed me noticing. I look at his hand then at his eyes. It's nice to get to see him a little closer. It's a little stranger getting a closer look. I see beads of sweat on a little part of his exposed chest, I hear him breathing, I see his eyes a little. I feel my mouth slowly quirk up into an uncontrollable smile.

I bite my lower lip as I look down at his hand and try to reach for it. I carefully watch his reaction as my hand nears his. He doesn't move yet until the last second. He allows my hand to hold his as I put the duster's handle in his hand. I look up at him and smile wider. I pause a little, mentally congratulating myself for facing my small fear. I chuckle, "Let's get dusting!"

* * *

The energy I felt between Brahms and I was stronger. Every time I try to get closer to him, the tension just increases. I am not sure if it's just me feeling it, but I feel kinda stupid for freaking myself out.

The freaky thing is...it's not a bad kind of tension or energy, though, it's actually...good.

I glance at Brahms gently dusting the shelves at the hallway. We've finished the living room and we're finally at the hallway. I wipe the wall lamps and quietly chuckle at the sight I'm seeing. For some weird reason, this guy looks oddly cute.

He's standing ever so poorly, with this arm gently, but firmly, dusting the corners and then the cabinets. I keep watching him until I could not control my quiet sniggering. He snaps his head to look at me and I cover my mouth. I look at Brahms who completely stopped what he's doing.

"Sorry," I say, "Continue." I slowly walk closer to his direction and smile sweetly making sure he doesn't feel humiliated or anything, "You're doing a great job." whisper and then walk to the other side. I feel Brahms watch me from behind as I start wiping at the lamp at the other corner.

This is probably the strangest-but-practical-and-productive thing we've ever done. I slowly drag my eyes from the floor and to where he's standing. He's looking at me, too. I pause a little. I realize I'm smiling until I look away again and continue wiping whatever the hell it is in front of me until I realize I'm rubbing on the painting. I gasp and completely stop, "Oh my God-" I turn to him and apologize for potentially ruining what used to be worth a billion dollars.

As I panic, looking at the rug I used to rub on the painting, I hear a light snicker at my side. I look at Brahms and see him chuckle one last time. He isn't looking at me but he could tell I looked at him.

Why does he keep avoiding human contact?

He's laughing at me-and hell, I'm actually honored. But at least don't stop!

"Sorry," I say. He looks at me once and continues dusting as if nothing happened.

I ruined his laughing moment. Awesome. Ugh.

I drag my eyes back to where I'm cleaning in shame and try to wipe my shame away. I look somewhere else and end up seeing the door against the ceiling. The attic. That's probably the next thing to clean.

I look at Brahms, "Hey, wanna help me clean up the attic?"

This time, Brahms completely stops cleaning and turns his head quick at me.

He's standing a few feet away from me, yet I feel the tension rise. And it's not the 'good' kind.


	32. Chapter 32

"The attic is prohibited." Brahms tells me. His child-like voice is gone.

I pause, unable to come up with a quick response. Lost for words, I stutter an "I know."

Brahms keeps his eyes on me behind that mask that does not help at all in this situation. I'm completely under pressure.

"I know that, Brahms," I continue, finally decided on what to say, "But since I know about everything now, I don't see a reason why you have to keep that from me? I know you're here, I know that doll isn't really haunted, and I know for sure that there's nothing else living in this house."

I try my best to keep quiet or else I'm just putting him on the edge of having another tantrum but I could not help it, "Or is there...something dead in there?"

Brahms' fingers flinch on the duster's handle. Is that a yes?

Suddenly, I remember everything I've seen in that attic. The album and the photos of the child, the newspapers about the dead girl and a fire-it all adds up and definitely points out to Brahms. But I don't know the details. I need the details. And if I'll be here for a long time, I'm gonna need the truth.

"Is there?" I ask him again,

Brahms does not flinch at all,

"If there was, what would you do?" his child-like voice is back,

I snap at his response, "Brahms, please. I need to know. I'm asking you a decent question: Is there a dead body up there?" I point at the attic door,

Brahms takes a step closer, making a creak that echoes through the hall, "And I'm asking you again," he pauses, only making me nervous with the tone of his voice, "What would you do?" I make sure I don't keep my eyes away from his, but it gets harder to keep eye contact since he is one step closer to me. I realize I am looking up at his towering figure,

"Brahms," I try to speak calmly, "Please."

He does not speak again,

"You can trust me. I don't see the point of hiding this from me. I know everything now-"

"Do you, Julie?" Brahms mentioning my name sends shiver down my spine but I do not let it stop me,

"I know about the girl."

I keep my eyes on his through that porcelain mask. He can hide certain things about me but he can't hide everything.

Brahms does not say anything. For the first time he's conversed longer than before and this might cut that off-but I don't care anymore. I need to know the truth today.

"I know about the fire. I know about the girl." I say again and he does not flinch, but I hear a light sneer.

We stare at each other for a few seconds. I don't know his next move, but I'm pretty sure he won't harm me. I feel it. I feel his energy. That strong tension I get from Brahms is ridiculously fervid.

"So..." I start again, "You might as well tell me everything."

Brahms looks away, and walks past by me. He stops before the attic door and pulls it open. He stands beside the ladder and glances at me.

 _That easy?_ I slowly walk towards him and stare at the black void in the attic. I mentally ask myself if I asked for the right thing. I try to settle the tension between us, "You should come with me." I say, "If you don't trust me on my own up there, come with me." I turn away and ascend to the attic. My eyes try to adjust to the dark as I turn the single light bulb in the room on.

I look behind me and see Brahms clamber upstairs. I hesitate in my head if I should help him up. I start to wonder why it feels like he's struggling to walk up a ladder?

Then it hits me. _The walls_. He probably has an alternative way.

Before he takes one more step, I approach him and offer my hand. He looks up at me and pause for a split second. He takes one more step and now I'm looking up at him. I grimace in slight embarrassment and turn around to walk to the boxes.

"Let's start cleaning then."

* * *

After minutes of wiping on the windows of the attic and avoiding to touch anything else that could possibly make Brahms anxious or might be a corpse, I turn to see Brahms opening up a box. I watch as he does then he slowly pulls out the album I once flipped open. He looks straight at me.

Brahms shows me the album in his hand,

"That's the album I saw." I tell him,

"Do you want to look at it again?"

I raise my eyebrows at his sudden suggestion, "Sure?" I say with slight enthusiasm, unable to hide my confusion. I place the rug on another box and rub my hands on my pants as I approach him. I keep my eyes at the album as he flips it open, and as I stand beside him he flips another page. The photo of a little girl stares at us. I gulp at whatever it is he might say. Brahms does not tell me anything but hands me the album. "Oh," was all I could say as I take it from his hand, and as he removes his hands, it accidentally brushes against my finger. Brahms walks away from me and hilariously continues dusting the walls.

I make sure I don't chuckle out loud and just look at the album in my hands. I flip the last few pages that I did not get to explore when he trapped me inside this attic a few months ago, "She died, right?" I break the silence,

"I killed her."

I look up then turn my head to look at him grimacing again.

"I killed her." He told me again.


	33. Chapter 33

_**Hello wonderful, twisted people!  
**_ **I just want to express my love to all of you**  
 **for being awesome and for reading my fanfic, my**  
 **crazy take on The Boy.  
I hope you guys like what you're reading! As always,  
your comments and reviews are appreciated. I read  
each and everyone one of them.**

 **Also, if you love the chappies, you  
are in for a treat! Because there are  
long chappies coming your way...  
and 'sweeter' ones too ;)**

 **Happy reading!**

 _ **CRISTA**_

* * *

"I killed her." He told me again.

So he did kill her. For some reason, I'm not shocked. I look back at the album to try to pretend I'm interested and at the same time uninterested of his vile practices during his childhood, "I see." I say as my eyes scan the newspapers inside the box. "May I ask why?" I flip the page,

"She was not following the rules."

My eyes shoot up at the window across me. The rules. The goddamn rules. "The one on the list?"

"No," he explains, "We were playing and I set out rules for her. But she didn't follow them. So I had to punish her."

This is it. He's a control freak. Weirdly, my mind thinks about fifty shades of grey but I shake it off. This is not the time to think about young adult erotica, especially because this control freak is nothing like the man in that story.

I turn my head to look at him again to see Brahms facing me, "I had to kill her."

"Your parents knew?"

"They protected me and hid me."

I sigh and try to sink in all what I'm hearing, "in the walls?" I finish his sentence,

"Yes."

"And the fire? How did they hide you and then suddenly burn the house-" I stop myself from speaking. This might not be the proper question. What if his parents were trying to kill him or something? I bite my lip thinking at my stupidity.

"They told me to hide when they burned the house."

"You were inside the house?"

"No. They had to burn the house to protect me."

It all make sense. They burned the evidences. Killed the boy to cover up the murder or something. That's just-that's enough information. I think that's enough for me to handle.

"Where are your parents?" I ask,

"They're dead."

Oh, God. He killed them, too. Didn't he?

"Did you-"

"They left me."

I take a deep breath. I guess that's enough.

"They killed themselves."

Oh. Well, I did not see that coming. "I'm sorry," I mutter. He turns around and starts dusting again as if it was nothing. There is seriously something wrong with this guy. I know I should be running away now but...why do I feel like I want to come closer?

"Brahms, you don't have to keep dusting." I say and he stops, "Let's just head downstairs."

"Are you scared?"

 _What? Where did that come from?_

"What? No." I say, "It's time for dinner, let's just go downstairs. You must be tired from all the dusting."

Brahms looks at what he's dusting and I realize it's a small portrait of the family. His family. Brahms walks past by me without a word, "Hey." I say to get his attention. "I want you to know that I'm here, alright? I mean, I'll be here whenever you need anything." That's the least I could do for Brahms. I might as well let him know before he...ends himself, too. Which I hope he does not.

He's the only thing I have here. And surprisingly, he keeps me sane.

"I'm here. And most importantly, Brahms, you can trust me if that's what you're worried about." I turn and see his back against me. He's listening, I know it.

"I hope you understand that." I say and he turns his head in my direction for a split second before he heads back down.

I sigh and look around. I sure hope he did hear me out. I take the rug, close the album and return it inside the box. I shut the box and wipe the top. I carry it and place it in the deepest corner of the attic. I clamber down the ladder and as I look down, I see a hand being offered to me.

Brahms waits for me. I try to hard not to grin and instead, I smile warmly at him and reach for his hand. His hands feel warm to my touch. I'm the only one freezing my ass up there and is still not used to the weather. I wonder what he thinks of my cold hands. I hope he doesn't think I'm nervous or anything.

I take his hand as a support as I jump down the floor. "Thank you," I say sweetly looking straight at him and realize we're closer than ever again. _Why does this keep happening to us?_

My heart is beating fast. My hand is still in his and I don't think he's planning to remove it. _I don't mind._

 _My body feels weird. I feel like I wanna get closer to him. I want to be closer._

Before I do anything again, I hear a hissing sound. My eyes widen, "The stove! Oh my God!" I exclaim and run downstairs to the kitchen. I run downstairs and see flares from the outside. I rush in the kitchen and see the pot burning on the stove. I look around and try to locate the fire extinguisher. I run to the living room and try to operate it but it does not work. I run to the hallway and find another, then back in the kitchen. The flames are getting bigger. I snap the seal and extinguish the fire. Luckily, the flames die down easy. I take a wide cloth from the cabinet and throw it over the stove.

I look up and notice the flames devoured the walls up to the ceiling.

Suddenly, I hear a loud thud from upstairs.


	34. Chapter 34

I ran upstairs as fast as I could. I pause and try to make out from where the sound is coming from. I check every room and do not spot Brahms. It's definitely him making all the noise.

" _Ahh_!" I hear a muffled shout from the back. The walls!

Fuck! I don't know how to get in the walls. I hear another loud thud. What the hell is going on in there? I concentrate and try to inspect the walls, looking to hit a hidden door. I brush my hand across the walls. Suddenly a loud thud hits the wall in front of me. I'm close.

I notice the huge cabinet beside the wall and hope that there's a pathway behind it or something. I move it out of the way and see a hard wall. I fall on my knees and sigh in disbelief. The thud continues. Then I move the taller cabinet beside it and to my relief, there a thin, vertical hole. Jackpot. I laugh in victory and easily fit myself through it.

The pathway takes me to an inner room. An incandescent light hovers through the thin hall and I follow it until I am led to a bigger room. I see a figure at a corner and realize it's not a living thing. Not a corpse, but a doll.

I instantly look for Brahms. The thuds stopped and even the shouting. But I hear sniffling from the room. I easily spot Brahms sitting on the ground at the corner of the table next to his bed. He's...sobbing.

Quickly, I run to him and kneel. Without hesitation, I put my hands on him and he flinches.

"The fire!" He shouts in a deep tone of voice, scared but not child-like anymore. He's upset and he's crying, "The fire!"

"The fire's gone, Brahms!" I repeat my words until he stops,

Brahms grips my arms. His muffled sobs cans till be heard in his mask. His palms are sweaty, and so is his chest and arms. He's still gripping my arms and I grip onto him as well. "The fire is gone, it's gone."

"Are you trying to kill me?" he suddenly says in a serious tone,

I look at him confused, "What?" I shake my head 'no', "That's-that's not true, Brahms. I'm not trying to-"

He instantly gets up, his hands still gripping my arm and he pushes me to the wall where my back hits hard. I groan in pain, unable to speak. He shouts at me asking me if I'm trying to kill him,

"Brahms-"

He shouts again. I wince at the pain I feel on my back, "Brahms please!"

"Are you trying to kill me?!"

I take in all my energy and manage to shout back, "No! Brahms, stop what you're doing! You're hurting me!"

He stops ramming me against the wall as I feel his grip loosen a little. I look at him in the eye and notice he's been crying so much under that stupid mask. I shout at him again, sobbing, "It's me, Brahms. I won't hurt you," I say in between sobs.

He stares at me speechless, still gripping on my arm,

"I won't ever hurt you. I told you that." I say as I try to calm down so he could calm down as well, "It's me, Brahms. It's Julie. I told you I wouldn't hurt you, remember? Please...please stop."

Brahms completely removes his hands from my arms but quickly pounds his fist on the wall next to my ear. I stay leaning against the wall as I watch Brahms turn away, shout, then quickly step closer to me, looking at me straight in the eyes. He raises his shaking hands in front of us both. I don't look away from him and see his clenched hand, shaking, open and slowly reach for my face.

He places his warm palm against my cheek. I don't look away.

"It's me," I whisper after a low sob. He hears me now.

I feel Brahms' touch on my cheek-and it feels right. I feel his calmness now. I close my eyes for a while, and when I open them, I look through his mask and see his eyes closed. Slowly, I reach for his hand on my cheek, and his eyes flutter open.

"It's okay." I whisper, "It's okay. You don't have to be afraid."

"Julie," he whispers in a low, hoarse voice.

"I told you, you could trust me." I say again as I slowly remove his hand from my cheek. We both stare at each other as I take his hand and put it on my waist. I let my words hang in his head. I pull myself closer to him and do not hesitate to hug him tight. He flinches once my body falls onto him, and I feel his hand pull me closer. As his other hand pulls me to hug me tighter, I wince at the pain I feel on my back. He immediately looks down at me and I look up at him.

"My-my back. It hurts." I say,

He stares at me as I look behind me and realize the frame that hit my back hard. I try to reach for my back where the pain comes from.

"I think I need to go upstairs," I say and try to move, but my one small movement makes me realize how utterly painful it is. It hurts so damn much I wince loud and Brahms notices, tries to grab me, but only touches the painful spot on my back making me shout again. He moves away from me.

"It's okay, I'll handle it. I'll-"

* * *

My eyes flutter open and I see a piercing bright light in front of me making me squint. I try to open them and look around properly to make out where the hell I am and what the hell happened.

I look to my side and see a glass of water on the table. I look the other side and see the sun rays against the window. I'm back in my room. I try to stand up and I completely remember what happened last night when I feel an instant pain on my back making me wince and fall back. "Fuck!" I curse loud.

So _that_ happen last night.

I carefully carry myself to sit up on the bed and see a better view of the table. There are two pills beside the glass. I definitely did not took them last night, did I? Suddenly I hear a familiar low voice startling me, "Those are for your back pains."

"Brahms," I mutter, "How did you-"

"I read everything." He says. For a second, I try to digest what he just said. Is that supposed to mean something? Is it an inside joke? Then, I remember, he reads books. The allergy book. Now, this. Medication.

"Thank you," I say and notice he's about to leave the room,

"Hey, wait!" I shout and the effort hurts my back again, "Brahms, wait. Don't leave me."

He stops and turns,

"Where are you going?"

He doesn't say anything. "Let me at least thank you for this," I gesture at the pills on my table,

"There is nothing to thank me for." He says,

"Brahms, you got me medication and somehow brought me back here." I manage to chuckle to lighten up the mood, "Let's just forget about last night, okay?"

He does not say anything again, "You have been sleeping for a whole day."

 _Wait what?_

"Take the medication I provided for you. It will take away the pain." He says sternly,

I have been sleeping for a whole day. I am having pain. I will not take this attitude. "Don't you dare leave me." I say, "Stay here."

I try to move my feet to reach the ground to attempt standing up. Apparently my body can't handle much pain.

"I hurt you." He suddenly says making me look at him, "I deserve to be punished."

Oh, God, no. Not this. What is he gonna do now?

"No, Brahms. Listen to me," I force myself to stand up and wince through the pain, "You did not mean it. You were scared and that's okay, you brought me back here and got me medicine. You helped me." I explain to him but he does not say anything,

"Trust me."

The magic words. I hope it works.

"I hurt you." He says again, "I need-"

"-Okay fine," I snap at him, "You want punishment for what you did?"

Brahms nods at me.

"As punishment, I want you to help me."

I see him tilt his head a little, confused at my punishment. I'm confused at myself too but if this works, then damn. "I need you to help me all throughout the day until I can get back my feet."

He stays quiet, unsure. "Do you hear me?"

He nods.

"This time, you're the sitter."


	35. Chapter 35

It's time Brahms learns to do the practicality of living with someone since I'll be here for a long ass time and will probably need his aid. This back pain is not just something you get for sitting and reading a book-but it's pain that you get after getting rammed against a hard, concrete wall and a corner of a frame. Honestly, the embarrassing thing about getting this bruise on my back is not the fact that I've been rammed against a frame, but the fact that it was a painting of a family which I presume was by Brahms.

Thanks a lot, Brahms.

I shoot Brahms a glare even though I try my best not to, "Get over here and help me get up."

He just looks at me,

What does he not get? "Brahms, get over here and help me get up."

Brahms finally approaches me and stops in front of me. I look up at his towering height, "Use your arms as support under my pits and pull me up."

He shakily moves both his arms as I raise mine. Oh, God, this is gonna take a while.

Brahms finally places his arms under my pit and pulls me up easy, but I wince in pain as I feel every part of my back make an effort to help me stand up. I shut my eyes as I try my best not to give up and stand on both feet. As I feel that I am finally on my feet, my hands cling to the table beside me for support. He takes his arms off me quick. I glare up at him and say a muttered, "thank you." I look down as I try to reach for my shoes. I am interrupted by Brahms' hand in front of me, he's presenting the pills I did not take yet. I look at his masked face not realizing I'm still glaring at him. He slightly turns to his side and slowly presents me the glass of water.

"Medication relieves the back pain." He states,

I sigh and take the pills, take the glass from his hand and chug it all. I feel relieved getting a glass of water, "I'm gonna need more of that." I just realized how thirsty I am.

Brahms turns around and leaves me in the room, "Wait whe-" I frown at him leaving, "Brahms!"

I curse under my breath and try to walk by myself, trying to ignore the pain. Suddenly, the thought of regret passes my mind. _If I wasn't too curious, this would have not happened. If I did not force myself to work here, I would have still been healthy. If I did not go into this house, none of this would have happened._

 _But then again..._

My thoughts fade away as I stop walking and see Brahms pushing a wheelchair.

 _...I would not have met this extraordinary man._

"Where did you get that?"

Brahms did not say anything and just stared at me. He wants me to ride it. I am so not riding that.

"I think I'll walk." I snap at him and keep walking, until when I pass by him, he grabs my arm. I quickly glance up at Brahms, "You must sit down." He says.

"Or what?" I suddenly reply, "Remember, you will listen to me. This is your punishment. So you'll listen or so help me-"

"Brahms is helping." He loosens his grip,

I pause, unable to say another sassy comment. I look down at the wheelchair.

I look up at him. Then, at the wheelchair.

Fuck it. If he ends up pushing me down the stairs, at least I can finally die or something. I sigh and turn around, gesturing to sit on the chair. I feel his eyes on me. I feel the strange tension again. Slowly, I sit on the seat and wince once my back hits the backrest. Brahms unlocks the wheels and pulls me out of the room. _I hate this._

Brahms passed the stairs and kept pushing me towards another door. The bathroom. He opens the door, pushes me inside and stops in front of the sink. Well, damn. At least he knows my morning routine. I struggle to stand up by successfully stand on my feet again. Before I could reach for my toothbrush, Brahms grabs it and hands it to me. He takes the toothpaste as well and puts some on my toothbrush. As he puts it back, I can't help but smirk at the way he's helping. He pauses, staring at something-and I realize he's looking at our reflection at the mirror. I catch him catch me smirking at him. I quickly frown and look away, "I-I'm gonna go brush my teeth and do my own business. You can wait outside."

He stays there.

"Wait outside." I said again and finally he walks out of the bathroom. I shut the door, face myself in front of the mirror, and let out a chuckle.

* * *

I walk out of the bathroom and Brahms walks back in to grab the wheelchair. I sigh realizing he hasn't forgotten about it. I really hate riding wheelchairs. "I can walk now, you know."

Brahms insists, "Please sit down."

Why does it feel like he's still getting his way?

"Fine." I say and sit on it. "Where to?" I bluff,

Brahms pushes me to the corner of the staircase. If he's pushing me down there, this is it for me. I'm gonna die today.

"Brahms?" I alarm him,

He stops pushing me and stands beside me, "You're not pushing me down, are you?"

He looks down at me, "You can now stand."

I roll my eyes. Finally. I wince again as I struggle to stand up despite the back pain that stings once in a while. My hand grabs on to the railings as I pull myself up. I look down at the stairway and realize it's gonna be a long journey for me to go down there.

"Well. I do have to make us both some food." I say, "I guess I have to-"

I feel two hands grip my waist quick, and I feel myself turned over. Brahms pulls me up and places me over his goddarn shoulder and starts walking down the stairs.

"Brahms-what the fuck are you doing?"


	36. Chapter 36

The stairway journey happens way too fast that I finally feel Brahms put me down. I struggle to stand straight as I feel slightly dizzy from him carrying me from a few flights of stairs. When I finally get my shit together, I realize my hand is gripping Brahms' arm. He's a little hairier than I thought.

That weird sensation overcomes my whole body, making my heart pound, once I realize what just happened seconds ago. Brahms carried me all the way down to the first floor. Him carrying me over his shoulder might be the closest we've ever been physically. I shudder mentally at the thought.

"...thanks...I guess." I say and make my way into the kitchen. Thank goodness he didn't bring the wheelchair.

I look around the kitchen, looking for an alternative to cook food on. I spot the microwave and thank the heavens.

I hear steel click behind me. Once I turn around, I see Brahms had just carried the wheelchair downstairs. Perfect. I sigh.

"I really don't need that wheelchair, you know." I say and turn around as I struggle with every move to try to cook us dinner. I glance behind me and watch him watch me try to cook.

After a minute, I glance behind me and see Brahms still standing next to the wheelchair. He's patiently waiting, watching, observing.

"Are you really just gonna stand there and watch?" I ask him, and he does not seem to get the picture. He just nods at me as a response. I click my tongue and slowly turn completely around. "Brahms," I sigh and try not to snap at him, "would you mind helping me with dinner?"

He pauses. Probably thinking about whether he's gonna plop me to the wheelchair or let me cook. I chuckle at the thought. He still hasn't answered me. I approach him and slowly reach out for his arm. _Julie, what the hell are you doing?_

He allows me to grab his wrist. I slowly look up at him, realizing he's really damn tall. I feel my stomach. _Probably just hungry...I mean I'm really tired, too. I need to snap out of this. Say it, Julie. Say it._

"H-here." I manage to speak out as I put the ramen plastic bowl in his hand. I watch him observe the instant ramen. I chuckle again. "I'll teach you how."

Guess this guy must have read all the books in his library, but have not read one about cooking instant noodles.

* * *

I make a loud, slurping sound as I drink from my bowl. Brahms sits across me. His cold noodle soup in front of him, untouched. He watches me finish my food. "You should go ahead and eat, too." I say even though I know he won't touch his food unless I'm out of sight.

He stands from his seat and approaches me. I watch him as he unlocks the wheelchair I am sitting on and pulls me out of the dining room.

I look up at Brahms pushing me along the corridor, "Where are you taking me now?"

"Upstairs."

Oh no no no. He is not carrying me again. "You won't carry me, will you?"

"I need to carry you backwards. Safest."

I roll my eyes. "No."

He keeps pushing me towards the stairs. "Stop."

Brahms ignores me, "Brahms. Stop. I don't want you to carry me."

He stops pushing and walks in front of me, "Allow me to help, Julie."

"I am not letting you carry me upstairs."

He gestures to carry me but I move away, "Stop. Didn't you hear what I just said? I don't want you to carry me upstairs. Let me walk."

He moves away from me. I realize I was kinda a little harsh there. I gulp, trying to think about what I just did. I realize I'm biting my lip. Brahms is just looking at me. "I-I can handle this myself. You can help me..." I struggle to pull myself up and finally stand on my feet without wincing, "...with other things."

No way in hell I'm gonna let him carry me. I know for sure I'm heavy. Brahms carrying me all the way up there is just gonna give him trouble. Even though he does seem a little...built. God knows what's underneath that sweater. I shake my head and try to take one step.

I take another step and I completely feel a quick sting on my back. I lean forward a little then start taking another, but after that I just felt every pain in my body. I quickly turn around and force myself downstairs.

"-Julie," Brahms says as I force myself to take one last step downwards,

"No," I say and finally land back on the first floor, "I'm staying downstairs."

"Julie."

"Brahms!" I turn quick to face him with a glare, "I am staying downstairs. Do you understand?"

He stops completely and nods.

"Thank you." I say, unable to look away. He's slumped his shoulders and looked down. Oh no. I didn't hurt him, did I? Brahms slowly steps back, reaches for the wheelchair and pushes next to the couch. He turns around and ascends the stairs, leaving me alone in the living room.


	37. Chapter 37

I plop myself quick on the large couch just to deal with the quick pain. I wince as I land on the couch back first. I pull my legs on it as well and just position myself. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Suddenly, I hear a light thump on the floor to my left. I open my eyes and see Brahms standing, cradling a pillow under his arm. I look at him from head to toe. Before I could say anything, he leans down and pull me up gently as I watch him place the pillow under me. He puts the blanket over me as well, tucking me in.

"The pillow supports the spine." He says.

I nod as a response and try to smile. "The blanket is to tuck you in," he says, "Just like how you do it to me."

I feel my heart melt. "Thank you, Brahms." I feel like guilt devouring me at the very moment. I shouldn't have shouted at him.

"Brahms," I start again. _Go on, say it, Julie. The guy has feelings. Say sorry._ "I just...I wanna apologize for shouting at you."

He doesn't say anything,

"You know, for shouting." Still no answer,

"I really did not mean it," I add, "I just didn't want you to have a hard time. Really, this is enough help. Do you understand?"

He miraculously nods once,

I feel my lips slowly quirk up into a smile, "Good." I say.

We both are silent,

"So," I say, "Will you be fine on your own tonight? I can't really tuck you in since...since I'm already tucked in." I chuckle,

Brahms stays mute,

"You'll sleep, though, right?"

No answer,

"Great." I mutter and look away,

"I'll be fine here," I tell him, "You should go now and get some rest. You can help me again tomorrow."

He stares at me for a few seconds. What's wrong now?

"Go on, I can manage myself here." I say again, and this time he turns to walk away. Instead of ascending the stairs, he goes to the other hallway. I look away and close my eyes.

He should be sleeping now. Where the hell is he going?

I open my eyes and look at the open door to the hallway. As much as I try to look away, I can't. My eyes are glued to the open door. I wait for him to come back but my eyes are slowly giving up, feeling tired. The living room is silent but me. I can only hear my breath.

* * *

It's a new day, I managed to pull myself up off the couch unlike the last two days. I feel a little stronger now. That's a miracle for someone trying to heal themselves at home with a glass of water and painkillers. I guess I'm fine now.

I suddenly have the courage to try to twist my hips. Slowly, I reach my far right, but before I complete the twist, I feel the sting. It's still there, but I guess I could say the pain is less. My eyes suddenly glance at the wheelchair next to the couch. I frown suddenly seeing the image of my mother in her own wheelchair. Before I continue that miserable memory, I hear foot steps behind me. I turn and see Brahms.

"Good morning," I say with a faint smile. Lately-I don't know how it's possible but-I have felt a different vibe from Brahms. He seemed a little distant since two days ago. My bet is on the fact that I shouted at him. That must have made him a little upset.

I completely understand, though. I would be, too. And now, I just need to make it up to him.

"Breakfast?" I ask with a grin, and he nods.

* * *

I managed to cook eggs and bacon on the microwave. The eggs look a little beat up but they could do. Brahms did not seem to mind. I recall almost catching him without the mask when I suddenly walked in the dining area and saw that he just put it on. We stared at each other for a little while, I smiled warmly and took his plates not breaking eye contact and still smiling. I wanted him to feel comfortable around me. I want to see behind that mask so bad.

I finish cleaning the plates and as I turn around, I am startled by his presence. He's standing just a step away from me. I lightly pat my chest, trying to calm my beating heart, "Hey-you startled me." I let out a soft chuckle, "Is there something you need?'

"Wheelchair," he says,

The smile from my face disappears, "Brahms," I say and lean against the sink and cross my arms, "I told you I don't need it anymore."

"The wheelchair supports the spine." He states,

"I know but I don't need it anymore, I feel fine."

He walks away without a word. I frown at his sudden leave. Suddenly, he comes back with the wheelchair.

 _God, he is not letting this go, is he?_

"You can sit now." He declares,

"Brahms, I am not sitting there."

Here we go again.


	38. Chapter 38

"Brahms," I try to stay calm, "I don't need the wheelchair. Okay?"

He doesn't say anything but he starts to lock the right side making sure it's stable for me to sit on. I shake my head, "You don't need to push me around the house," he moves to the left side to lock the wheel but it jams itself. He tries to push it down but it won't let him. I realize he's having a hard time,

"Brahms, look, the wheelchair isn't even functioning well. It's outdated. Give it a break."

He's not listening to me and he keeps pushing it down. What is it with him and wheelchairs?

"Brahms." I raise my voice to get his attention, "Brahms!"

He keeps pushing and pushing it downwards to lock the wheel, "Brahms!"

The tire of the wheel pops and his hand slides down in between the wheel and the seat, the steel grazing his arm, as his mask hits the steel of the wheel hard, making a loud sound, making me shriek. I gape at the sight of Brahms kneeling beside the wheelchair. I watch him with wide eyes as he tries to stand up again, his hand touching his forehead- "Oh my God, Brahms are you okay?!"

He doesn't pay attention to me as his hands shakily try to hold his forehead,

Jesus, don't tell me it's bleeding. Please.

I approach him quickly, my hands try to hold onto his to give me a closer look at the mask. I notice a slight crack on the forehead. "Let me look at you-" I demand as I pull his hands down and see a little bit of blood on his ear,

I feel liquid on my hands as well, and when I look down, I see a bleeding scratch on his arm. I look up at him and notice he's looking at me, too. _Why isn't he crying? Isn't he supposed to be crying or something? Isn't he in pain?_

"You're bleeding," I say, feeling my eyes water. This is my fault. If I just sat on the damn chair, this would not have happened, "I'm so sorry, Brahms," I look at his arm and see it bleeding, "Wait here," I gently pull him to a chair and make him sit.

"Sit down, let me cure you." I say it twice for him to follow me,

I hurry to get the first aid kit from the bathroom and scurry back into the kitchen. He's still sitting there, quiet. Why is he not reacting to this?

I stand right in front of him and notice his hands are shaking. _Is he taking this all in?_

"I'll cure your arm, alright? I'll just put this-" I show him a container and then a bandaid, "and this. To stop the pain and the blood from coming out, alright? I won't hurt you."

He nods at me, staring right back at me. As I wipe the ointment on his arm, I look up at his eyes. They're watery, too. "Is it painful?"

He nods once, and I try to stop myself from crying but I feel my eyes water. I have no clue why I feel emotional over this-but I know I'm guilty of the pain I caused him. "I'm so sorry, Brahms."

I sniff trying to suck in all the tears and not let it fall as I look down on his arm and wipe the blood off and apply ointment, "The pain will be gone after this, okay?" I say and put a long gauze on his arm and tape it.

My eyes slowly drags itself up to look at him. I sheepishly ask, "Your forehead's bleeding, too, isn't it?"

He nods,

"Well, I need to cure that, too."

He does not say anything, "You have to take off the mask, Brahms."

He jolts up and I know he's going to leave but I grab his other arm. He looks at me and pauses, standing up. "Please don't leave. Don't leave."

I feel my eyes water, "Sit down, please."

And slowly, he returns to his seat, still looking at me. I realize we're sitting inches away from each other. The stool is of the same height, letting us sit closer and of the same height.

The tension. It's still there...and it's growing as of this moment.

"Fine," I say, "You don't have to take it off. You can do this yourself for now...because you're not ready." I put ointment on a big, fluffy cotton, "I want you to apply this on your wound on your forehead after you cleanse it. Do it when I leave the kitchen, okay?" I say softly.

Brahms nods, still looking back at me. I pause, staring at his eyes through the holes of his mask. "But next time," I say, "If this happens again, I need to be the one to do it, okay? I only want to help."

He nods,

"Can you promise me that you'll let me help?"

He nods again,

"Okay. I just really want you to trust me." I say and nod, too. I slowly reach for his hand to give him the cotton without breaking eye contact. "There you go." I get off my seat, "I'll leave you now, okay?"

Before I leave, he calls me suddenly.

"Julie." he says lightly...with his normal voice. I feel a weird, swift feeling in my stomach. I bite my lip and turn to face him, "Please?" he says sweetly as he hands me over the cotton. I look at him in confusion as I slowly approach him.

He slowly reaches for his mask and remove the side where he hit his head. For a second there, I felt my heart beat faster than a millisecond. I realize I'm biting my lower lip hard. I release a sigh when he stops. He's showing me a little part of his forehead, still holding the mask with both hands.

 _I see._


	39. Chapter 39

"Oh," was all I could say as I end up standing next to him. He's sitting on the stool, still making him taller than me. I slowly reach for the small cut on his forehead. I cleanse it with a wet cotton ball. I peek a little on his forehead that's exposed to the light in the room. I look at his eyes as I cleanse it and look away to throw the cotton. Then, I take the other one and apply the ointment. My eyes are fixated at his cut. It's not as deep as I thought it would be. I sigh in relief.

I put some more ointment in the cut to make sure it'll heal in no time. I look at him and notice he's still looking at me. "Does it hurt?"

He nods once,

"Do you feel dizzy?" I could tell he's a little more slumped than he usually is as he sits on the stool. And just as predicted, he nods. I throw the ball to the bin and approach him, "I'll escort you to the couch, come on." I say as I gently cling my arm to his. He looks down at me and gets off the stool, "Slowly, we'll walk, okay?"

He nods again and walks with me to the living room,

"I wanna apologize again," I say as we make our way to the other room, "for raising my voice at you. And...for this."

He does not say anything but I can feel his eyes on me. I glance at him and realize I'm right. He's watching me as we keep walking, "and I also want to thank you for helping me when my back was still hurting. Now," I chuckle, "I guess it's time for me to take care of you again."

I look into his eyes, "Your turn to sleep on the couch." I bluff,

He doesn't laugh but we keep walking to the couch,

I tell him to lay down on the couch I stayed in, and he follows. I tuck him in completely, "You should rest here first. I don't wanna risk you walking upstairs."

I sit next to him on the couch and reach for his hand as he looks at me,

"And...I can't really carry you upstairs like how you do it."

I lightly squeeze his hand and as I was about to stand up, surprisingly, he squeezes mine too. I look back at him and sit back down. A smile escapes my lips. "You alright?" I ask,

He doesn't respond but he's looking at me,

"Don't worry. I'm staying here tonight, too. So you'll have company." I attempt to brush my thumb against his skin. The tension I've been feeling in my body is at it's highest level. My heart is pounding so loud, I can hear it, but I don't care.

"Go rest for now," I say and pause, looking at him, "You can't rest yet, can you?"

He shakes his head 'no,'

"I can read you something if you want?"

He's quiet but staring at me,

"Or I can tell you stuff to help you sleep?"

* * *

I look at the clock hanging on the wall and notice it's been twenty minutes or so, and I have been spending it by telling Brahms my whole story. He's a good listener, too. Aside from the fact he just really listens, he squeezes my hand when I feel like tearing up. He squeezed it twice, I noticed. And everytime he did, I didn't tear up. I felt...relieved.

I look back at Brahms who's still wide awake,

"Alright, I'll shush now and let you actually rest." I chuckle, "Sorry for boring you."

I notice his eyes flutter and close finally. Great, I got him bored and sleepy. Isn't that nice. I shake my head.

Before I stand up and sleep on the other chair, I pause to watch him for a few seconds. Different thoughts are in my head. I need to think of so many things tonight. I need some time alone. I feel overwhelmed. But for some reason, I can't leave him.

I lean my head on the couch's back rest and close my eyes for a bit.

Then, I look at our hands. _It hits me._ We're holding hands. Oh my gosh. Well, sort of...I mean his middle, index, and thumb is wrapped around my hand...that's still considered holding, isn't it? It's more than just touching.

My heart kinda calmed itself down now.

I look at his mask. When will I ever see behind that thing?

I slowly lean closer to his face to get a better look. And suddenly, I find my lips on the mouth of his mask. I feel it's cold, hard porcelain texture on my lips. For some reason, I want to know how his actual mouth feels like. I slowly reach for his mask and pull it up a little just to expose his mouth. I try to look at the shape of his mouth in the dark with the help of the night lamp on the wall but still lean in to kiss his actual lips. I feel it.

His warm lips touch mine. Suddenly, it feels wet as I feel his tongue touch my lips. I let his tongue enter my mouth and I continue to make out with him. I break free from the kiss and straddle him on the couch to get a better angle on his mouth. I continue kissing him hard on the mouth. Suddenly, I hear thunder from outside. I ignore the flash of lightning as well and continue kissing him hard. I feel his hand go under my shirt. I play with his tongue, "Brahms" I say in between. Suddenly, another flash of lightning strikes and a loud thunder startles me-

I wake up, my eyes quickly open. I see my hand still holding Brahms' as he is lying down peacefully on the couch. I look around and realize I'm leaning on the couch's backrest. I grimace at myself.


	40. Chapter 40

Julie. Oh, Julie.

My hand touches hers. I watch her sleep. She's resting her head close to me. Julie's so close. I run my fingers across hers. She feels so soft. So gentle. So flawless. I try to sit up but there is pain in my head.

I force myself to sit up again. Julie moves.

She is beautiful when she moves.

She is beautiful.

She helps. She is nice. She is mad. But she is beautiful.

I feel pain. But she is beautiful and kind. She takes care of me. She sleeps next to me. I slept next to Julie.

My fingers touch her arm. Flawless.

She moans in her sleep.

I touch her forearm softly. She smiles in her sleep.

She is beautiful.

I touch her cheek. She is still smiling.

I lie down again and allow the pain in my head to well up. I hold her hand and sleep again.

* * *

I rub my eyes and realize I just woke up from a...dream. I lean my head against the backrest of the couch and look at Brahms sleeping. It's weird. This is weird. I'm watching him sleep. I've never seen him sleep. This is too weird.

But I love it.

I feel my mouth smiling hard. I close my eyes and try to sleep but I feel too uncomfortable. I remove my hand gently and sit on the floor next to him. He's still sleeping, I'm surprised. That blow to the head probably really got him. I lean my head on the couch and watch him. I stare at the mask. My hands slowly reach for his and I squeeze it gently. He stays unconscious. Still sleeping. I watch his chest rise and fall. I only hear our breaths.

I sit up and slowly lean in. Slowly, I plant a light kiss on the mask's forehead, then I sit again on the floor and lean my head on the couch to sleep.

* * *

A bright light shines against me, completely waking me up. I try to open my eyes and see nothing but light. I rub my eyes and finally see that the sun is shining bright outside. The light bounces right at me on the couch. I look around and see that I'm still sitting on the floor. I look at the empty couch.

I guess the rain is gone...and so is he. I try to stand and I suddenly feel complete pain on my back again. It was such a bad idea to sleep like that. I wince as I plop myself on the couch.

 _God, when is this pain ever gonna leave._

"Brahms?" I call, and no answer,

I guess we're back to this.

I fall asleep on the couch.

* * *

That was the best sleep I have ever had. I stretch my whole body and feel only a bit of pain in my back making me jerk back to my normal position. Damn it. I keep forgetting. I lie on my back and stare at the ceiling. It's been a while since I got good sleep.

The other night...that was a dream, wasn't it? But touching Brahms' hand was not. I know it. Damn. From Brahms pushing me to a hard wall, to touching hands. What a hell of a ride this week has been.

He really does sleep in the walls. I did not get to take a good look of the room because it was dark in there but I know for sure that it's not so safe to stay in those walls. It's almost like living in the attic.

I almost thought he lived in the attic which was strange but what more could be stranger than that?

Brahms, oh Brahms. You are a strange one. A mystery.

"Brahms," I whisper his name, "Oh no-Brahms." I quickly turn to look at the clock and realize it's 7. I look at the window-oh my gosh I thought it was the freaking morning!

I realize the lamp was making it seem bright in the room.

"Brahms!" I manage to sit up, worried sick whatever happened to him, "Br-"

I suddenly spot a figure across the room. Oh thank God.

"-Hey," I say and stand up, "I'm so sorry, I slept in-"

I feel something patched to my back, "What-what is this-" I touch my back and feel a patch stuck on it,

"Brahms?"

"The patch eases the pain."

"Where did you get these?"

"Mommy got it for me years ago."

And it still works. Just my luck.

"Thank you, Brahms. It really helped." I say and suddenly felt like blushing and smiling, "This was really thoughtful."

I approach him, "But it's time I take care of you again, okay? I'm fine now."

He stays quiet,

"How's your head?" I ask as I try to gesture to touch his face, he lets me, I place my fingertip on the mask tracing the cut I saw the other night on his forehead, "Did it still bleed?"

He shakes his head 'no,'

"Do you still feel dizzy?" I ask,

He shakes his head again,

"That's really good to know."

We stay quiet, and I'm still staring at him,

"So..." I break the silence, "are you hungry?"

He shakes his head,

"Oh okay." I hear my stomach, "Because I kinda am, hope you don't mind if I head over to the kitchen?"

He stays quiet and I leave and head to the kitchen by myself.


	41. Chapter 41

I cook myself ramen by boiling water. I really need to purchase a new stove. We can't live off noodles through a boiler and toast through a microwave. I lean back on the counter while waiting for the water to boil. I sigh and notice the silence.

The house is quiet, as always. He's quiet, too.

Whatever happened last night, that's got to mean something, right? He almost removed his mask. I touched his hand. He's got to feel something. Or am I being ridiculous? Does he really just see me as...a babysitter?

I frown at the thought.

I notice the water's boiling. I unplug the heater and pour the water in the cup.

 _He's got to feel something._

I glance down and realize the cup is full. I shriek as the water overflows, making me jump out of the way but the hot water splashes from the counter and to my shirt. I shake my head in disbelief. _What a morning._

I put the heater down and look at my mess. Half of my shirt is wet and it burns my stomach. I pull it away from my skin. This reminds me that it's time for that shower again. It's been a while. I twist the end of my shirt and carefully tie it. I squeeze the hot water from my shirt and suddenly glance at my right as I see Brahms' figure.

He's staring at me.

He's always here when something happens. But it only seems like he's interested for a while. I try my best not to glare at him because of the thought.

Brahms is looking at me and the mess. No reaction, just silence. But, I realize he's looking at how my stomach's exposed. I bite my lip and turn away.

But come to think of it...

I untie the knot from my shirt and take it a little higher, exposing my navel, and tie it tight showing my curves. I clear my throat and start wiping the counter. I try my best not to glance at him and just continue my business in the kitchen. I take my noodles and head to the table to eat. I pass by him, "You want some?" I ask and he does not reply as I keep walking to the dinner table.

I start eating and notice Brahms slowly leave the hall. I sigh and look away.

* * *

We took piano lessons today. I'm glad we did it without the presence of the doll, too, and he seemed okay. I like teaching him rather than the doll. It's as if I grew apart from it now. Exactly how it should be.

The tension's stronger today, especially when we were sitting beside each other. I tried to reach for his hand to position it to a key but I couldn't do it. I didn't want to be too obvious. But I scooted closer to him. Not because I had to get a reaction, but simply because..well..I really wanted to.

I love how his arm brushes against mine. The tension feels powerful that way.

And now, I'm aching for that tension again as I see him in the living room about to leave. But I know I need to stop or I'll be obvious. I think I just need a shower.

I look up the stairs and pause.

"Um, Brahms?" I call for him and he stops walking, he turns to face me. I don't want to say it. I just look at him, unable to form the words in my head to ask him. If I ask him, I'll be darn right obvious-

Brahms walks towards me and pauses, then he holds his hand out for me,

 _Who gives a fuck anyway?_

I smile and walk towards him to take his hand. Instead of carrying me like I expected him to, he leads me to the first step of the stairs. I look at him with confusion on my face. Was not expecting that.

As I take a second step, he stops and suddenly carries me to put me over his shoulder making me shriek.

On second thought, I guess he was just preparing.

Brahms carries me as he takes me upstairs. I feel ridiculous for asking for his help on purpose, but I have to admit I'm enjoying this physical interaction I have with him. I'm just savoring it while it lasts, since it rarely happens.

He puts me down once he arrive at the second floor,

It's rare for him to react, but he interacts. And I guess that's what I'll always have. I try not to frown and think happily because of what he's done. I thank Brahms. He does not say anything and just walks away.


	42. Chapter 42

I feel the gust of cold air before I enter the house between my legs. It was a bad idea to wear this dress today. I shut the door behind me and stop from my tracks to scan the place. It's quiet like always.

This place has been so quiet ever since.

I head to the living room where the vinyl player is. I browse through the dusty collection of music that's left untouched for God knows how long. I take one disc and place it on the player and allow it to play. The music sounds low making me turn the volume even louder than the usual volume I play for Brahms.

A woman's sweet voice starts singing french. I close my eyes as I feel myself dance to the music...

"Des yeux qui font baisser les miens..."

My hands run down the seam of my dress and allow it to flow as I twirl around, enjoying the beautiful melody. I missed this. I miss having me time, and just dancing around, not caring about the world. It's been a while.

I keep my eyes closed, running my fingers across my torso and up to my chest, I keep twirling around the empty living room.

My afternoon in the Heelshire house has never been this calming.

I dance gracefully despite the pain on my back that stings less than it should now,

"Hold me close and hold me fast, the magic spell you cast..." I open my eyes and see through the window that there's a storm coming again. I ignore it and twirl and dance until I'm nearing the player to hear the music,

In the background, I feel a faint thunderclap. I keep dancing, my eyes closed now. Just me and the music.

I turn once more until I hear something behind me that makes me open my eyes, but I don't turn around yet. I sense that it's from the hallway. I ignore the music, close my eyes, and twirl slowly with grace once again.

I keep my eyes closed as I dance to the music, ignoring everything for once,

"...Give your heart and soul to me..."

Then, the song ends, "...And life will always be la vie en rose."

I pause before I open my eyes. I see Brahms standing at a corner, staring at me again. A new song plays in the background. I give him a warm smile, and he stays still.

I walk to the player and try to replay the previous song, then I turn to face Brahms, and present my hand to him.

He observes me as I offer my hand, patiently waiting for him,

Soon enough, he understands. Brahms approaches me slowly, like he's being cautious of what he must do. He hesitates on what he's about to do. I slowly reach for his hand instead and stand close in front of him. I look up into his eyes through the mask.

"I don't know what's going on in your mind," I whisper to him, looking straight into his eyes, "but I'd really like to dance right now."

He stays quiet looking back at me. I see lightning flash through the window,

"You know what a dance is, don't you?"

He nods slowly,

"Dance with me." I say,

Before he responds, I decide to sway in place as I look down on our feet. Slowly, I look up at him and smile, "Just follow my lead. Think of this as a dance lesson session," I chuckle softly, "Since you're good in playing the piano, let's move on to dancing."

Brahms does not say anything,

I try to hold onto both of his hands and slowly lead them to my waist, "This is where your hands go," I say and then run my hands up his arms and to his shoulders to rest them, "...and then my hands go up here,"

"And we sway, side to side, like this," I say and sway in place again, moving my feet bit by bit,

It takes him a few seconds until he decides to sway with me,

We both move in one direction, synced with the music. I could not help but grin, but I hide it as I look down at our feet. I feel myself blush. Realizing that he's dancing with me.

I feel the tension again...the good kind.

I look up and realize he's been looking down at me. I don't care anymore. I stare at him, wishing the song never ended.

This is probably the weirdest thing I have gotten myself into, but I can't seem to quit it. Who is he in the past? What happened exactly in this house? What is his goal? What is he hiding? What does he want? What does he feel?

 _Does he like me?_

Brahms is still staring back at me. I try to move my hand closer to his neck,

I reach further more but suddenly, Brahms quickly grabs my wrist. He stares back at me as I look at him, confused, I was speechless at his action. I don't say anything but stare back at him, "I..."

He pulls away and drops my hand,

"I'm sorry," I say, and he just stares at me, "I wasn't trying to hurt you,"

Brahms turns around and walks away from me,

"Brahms, wait!" I shout to try to stop him, but he keeps walking to the door, "Brahms! Don't leave! Please!" I run behind him, "Brahms! I'm talking to you."

He stops and turns around to look straight at me,

I walk closer to him, "I'm sorry," I start, "I just...I need answers, Brahms. I want to know who you are, I want to know why you need the mask. I want to know everything. Do you still not trust me?"

Brahms stays quiet again,

"Please talk to me, tell me the truth. You can trust me, Brahms." I shake my head, "Can you at least just take off the mask? I put the doll away, Brahms. What's the point of having the mask?"

He's still staring at me,

I feel frustrated. I feel foolish. What the hell am I doing?

Could he possibly be living through the doll? What if he never wants to escape that? Did I really think I could change him just like that?

The song is still playing in the background. I shake head, trying to wake myself up from my made up reality. I walk to the vinyl player and shut the music off. I turn around and run my fingers through my hair in frustration, and I see Brahms approach me, watching me.

I hear nothing but thunder and rain,

"I am so stupid," I whisper to myself,

I glance at Brahms who's still staring at me,

"You really won't say anything?" I say, frustration in my voice, and he still stays quiet.


	43. Chapter 43

He said nothing. It has only been seconds, but it felt like at eternity waiting for Brahms, giving him a last chance to speak up. But he could not. He's still staring at me with the same sad, lost eyes.

I shake my head in disbelief, slowly walking backwards, and finally pushing myself to run out of the house and into the front yard, not even caring about the storm I am in.

It's raining harder than I thought, and I feel my dress become drenched in only a matter of seconds. My frustrations have defeated me. I'm crying in the rain, but I don't even feel my tears, I'm running away from the house for the first time, and I ask myself loud inside my head why I'm just doing this now.

A big flash of lightning startles me and stops me from running, I quickly stop and stare at my surroundings,

I look down, observing myself,

I can't leave. I can't leave him. I was the only one there for him. If I leave him...who will take care of him now?

I bury my face in my hands and shout as loud as I can in the rain but I'm defeated once again by the loud roaring thunder. I pause for a while and clear my head, making a quick decision.

Is it freedom I want? Is it sanity?

The rain gradually lightens, and I run back to the house.

* * *

I slam the door open and notice the lights are off. I slam the door to a close and quickly scan the living room. The lightning is the only source of light I have, giving me a hint as I glance upstairs when I saw a figure. Brahms is upstairs. I ascend the stairs as fast as I could,

As soon as I step on the second floor, I see him about to disappear into the walls, but I shout his name and he quickly turns around.

I feel the tension 10 feet away from Brahms, it's stronger than ever. I feel nervous standing here, but I also feel the need to be closer.

I briskly walk to him and stop a few inches away, "Take your mask off." I command him,

He's staring with wide, confused eyes,

"Take your mask off." I repeated with a stern tone of voice, "Now."

Brahms slowly reached for his mask, then gently removed it from his face. I kept my eyes on him, not wasting every second, embedding every moment in my memory. He slowly, finally, pulls his mask off, revealing the real face of Brahms.

His face is deformed, burned possibly, from the fire, I thought. I remember specifically from the journal and the articles from the old newspapers.

I take a step closer, observing the marks and scars on his face. "Can I touch?" I ask with a low voice, making sure it's not against him,

He looks at me-God it feels different seeing his full face looking down at me-and he nods at me, "I'll be gentle," I assure him and slowly reach for his face with one hand, and brush my thumb against the scar on his cheek.

I feel a thousand feelings, and I notice myself tearing up. I couldn't say anything, "Brahms..." was all I could speak out, my hands still on his face, I look into his eyes and I see him staring back into me...his deep eyes staring feel so different,

I watch the scar on his lip move as he suddenly speaks, "Are you scared?"

I grimace and shake my head 'no,' as I run my thumb on his lower lip. I look back at his eyes, then at his lips, and back again into his eyes. I pull myself closer and close my eyes, planting my lips on his.

His lips felt warm and soft despite the cold temperature of the room. I felt Brahms' lips move as he gives me a light kiss. I peek and see that his eyes are closed as well, and it makes me pull him closer into me. I wrap my arms around his neck as I start kissing him with full mouth, and he does not pull away.

I hear a thud under us and I notice he's dropped the mask to wrap his around around my waist tightly,

Brahms pulls away from the kiss, "Don't leave, Julie," he says suddenly in his normal voice,

"I won't leave you," I whisper, "I promise. Whatever happens, I won't leave."

Brahms leans in and kisses me again.


End file.
